Already Gone
by whatevergirl
Summary: Jean has gone. Scott's alone, left with just his pain. But, those around him notice this. Logan/Scott, with changes to the start of the 3rd film.
1. Chapter 1

Scott yawned sleepily and shifted in his bed. He could hear the wind blowing loudly outside, the branches of trees rustling; he could hear owls crying out as the soared through the night sky. In his head, he could hear nothing, feel nothing. He was alone.

The young teacher's eyes were shut, his body relaxed but his mind was racing. He was still half sifting through check lists in his head of all the damages that needed repairing, of students who needed counselling, of parents to contact and people to phone.

His head felt almost numb; fit to burst with information and yet without Jean's steady, loving presence, it felt empty. The pain was beginning to make itself known again; the worst part of trying to sleep. Whenever he tried to settle, his mind would seek out the connection it had received so many years ago. It was frustrating, but it was life.

'Ro had been trying to talk to him and convince him to actually get back to teaching the students, but it wouldn't work. Watching the face stare up at him, some blank, some pitying, some hopeful; it turned his stomach. It left him feeling weak.

Scott felt a sharp stab of pain in his head, causing him to clench his eyes tighter shut. His mind had brushed past a telepath's; the professor believed that the connection between himself and Jean had been violently cut when she died. The problem for Scott was that it left his mind open; like a tunnel that had been blown open, leaving it free for any passing telepath to enter.

Professor Xavier was trying to help, trying to sooth the edge and coax them shut. Apparently it was a slow process. He turned over, flipping his pillow and resting his cheek on the cool side.

The general ache of his mind's search was increasing, as it always did. Soon it would start to ebb away and he would sleep. It was the same, every night. At least, it was the same most nights. Some nights he lay awake for hours and hours, his head unable to settle and begin its search.

He curled tighter and brought his hands up to the sides of his face, a familiar burn in his eyes as his tears forced their way past the fire in his eyes and down his cheeks. More careful breaths and it began to wane. He pressed his face into the pillow and let out a soft groan of relief.

* * *

Logan was on a hunt. His stomach was aching and he couldn't find anything he wanted. He had stared blankly into the fridge before moving over to the cupboards. Nothing... there was nothing he wanted to eat.

The man ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to decide, before grabbing his cup of coffee and leaving. He'd find something later. There seemed to be nothing but cookies, bags of crisps and a few cereal boxes in this school.

He made his way down to the bottom end of the estate, where the greenhouses were being rebuilt. It was the students who had decided to do most of the work, volunteering their different abilities to do whatever they could to help. 'Ro and Cyclops were the ones who figured out who needed to be where.

Logan just mixed about, helping where ever he was wanted and he often ran into Kurt, who had had the same idea. His animated friend was taking the place of pulley systems; he transported the different materials up to the students. Wood, glass, nails, bolts, tools... anything.

The man set his cup down and began to work on cutting beams along the clearly marked lines, adjusting them to the correct size for use. It was a fairly dull task, but it felt somewhat reminiscent of his old job as a lumberjack. The smell of trees, the sawdust...

He listened to both the radio that was playing in the background and the students who managed to argue about everything while they worked. It was comfortable and he didn't look up until a mug was placed in front of him. The hand holding it was attached to Marie; a smirk gracing her features.

"Thought you'd want a hot one."

"Eh? Thanks..." A glance at his watch told him he'd been working nearly 2 hours. His untouched coffee cup sat on the ground, sawdust flecked over the surface of the liquid.

"How you doin'?" The girl sat herself next to him, uncaring of the dirt that she would gather on her jeans as she watched him curiously.

" 'm not so bad." He took a sip and noticed her looking expectantly at him. "You?"

"I'm so tired. There is nothing I can do to help. Everyone else can do something. You carve, Bobby holds things in place with his ice, and Peter picks up and moves anything. Kurt is helping; Miss Munroe is keeping it dry while we work... And I make drinks... Feel a little useless."

She had wanted to talk. And she was looking to him for answers. He didn't really know what to say. He knew he was a man of few words, even though he always tried to make the words he spoke count.

"You're not useless. And drinks are important. Can't have people dehydrated. Go tell Cyke if you wanna do something else though."

She released a weary sigh and said nothing, just gazed blankly at the liquid inside her own mug. He waited a few minutes to see what she'd d, but when the girl didn't move, Logan returned to his work.

"Would you talk to Mr Summers?"

"Huh?"

"He looks awful, like he'll drop if he stops moving for a moment."

"We're not friends, kid."

"Well, he isn't talkin' to his own friends. Logan!" she was pleading with him, her eyes wide.

He sighed, and gave a nod. It wasn't really his business if the kid couldn't cope with Jean's death, but if it was upsetting his students this much, someone should.

* * *

"Cyke?"

The kid really did look bad. He was pale, and thin. It wouldn't surprise Logan if there were bags under his eyes.

"What?"

He mind went blank as he stared at the kid. Beyond 'look after yourself' he didn't know what to say. He did know better than to say that in particular though, Scott's pride would cause him problems.

"Marie wants to do something more than making drinks." He'd just have to find somewhere to fit it in; it was a shame small talk wasn't his area of expertise.

"Ok..." The kid turned and began to walk off, so Logan followed him. He could feel the irritation coming off Scott in waves, but ignored it.

"Lunch time now, Cyke. No good going to your office."

"What? Well, I have stuff to do."

"Tough."

He grabbed Cyke's elbow and directed him to the cafeteria. It took a moment but with a tired sigh, the other man went with him. They both grabbed a tray, placing on it a drink and a sandwich before finding a table next to some of the other staff.

Logan took a bite before looking up at Cyke, who was pulling his sandwich apart, barely managing any interest in his food.

"We ain't leaving till you've eaten."

Logan felt as if the kid's eyes were burning into him but with slight nod, followed by a scowl Scott picked his food up and took a bite. Watching the kid, he wanted to ask how he was doing, but he waited. He'd leave distractions till Scott was done eating.

It was on their way to the staff room that Logan managed to spit it out.

"How've you been, Slim?"

"Fine."

"Yeah, right. That's a lie when I can see how tired you are, bub."

Scott stopped and turned to look at him. "I am tired. I guess even you can tell that. It's just... it's none of your business. I can talk to the Professor if I want to talk."

The kid's pride had flared up; it had only been a matter of time. Logan sighed as he watched the kid storm off. Marie would be disappointed they hadn't spoken properly, but the man hoped he'd given the young teacher something of a kick. He needed to get his act together, even if he was still grieving.

* * *

Scott lay in his bed, his glasses still covering his eyes. Night had fallen and the grounds had returned to the familiar soft noises flitting through it. He'd had a hot bath and done his best to relax his mind. He'd gotten through as many of his jobs as he could. Maybe if he could get things off his mind he could sleep.

Sleep was important. He would not accept being cornered by Logan about it again. His mind began to search and he experienced the growth of his usual pain.

* * *

Another day dawned and Scott crawled out of bed. He'd felt something different last night. He'd felt Jean. He had to go find her. The water... she couldn't have survived...

He fell into his old routine; dress, toilet, shave, eat, clean teeth and go. It was the final part of this that made him run into Logan. The man made attempts at conversation again, but Scott had no time for it. His girl was waiting for him.

* * *

Logan frowned as the kid left. He'd barely said anything, just a lab at his mutation... Scott had missed a danger room session and then failed to have a proper go at him.

Logan followed him out to the bikes and watched as he left. A quick decision saw Logan mount his own bike and shout at some kids to tell the professor he was going out for a while.

It didn't take any effort to catch the other up. Logan hung slightly back, trying to follow him without seeming like it but it didn't take long to figure out where they were going. He over took Scott and kept going in the direction of Alkali Lake. Hopefully the young man wouldn't change his mind.

When he got there he scowled. There was plenty of time till he estimated Scott would get here. About an hour if he stuck to the speed limits.

Logan went down to the water's edge and sat down. Staring out at the rippling surface his mind wandered. He didn't know why he was here. He held a strong interest in the kid, but that it had come this far was ridiculous. He had better stuff to do.

He tried to skim a stone over the water as he debated whether or not to leave. Instead, he chose to go for a walk. The place was actually beautiful; place where Jean died or not. The trees tall and the flowers were starting to bud. Spring had started, with new life cropping up all over the place.

The mutant lay back in the grass enjoying the wind blowing softly over his face. His fingers were still cold, the last dregs of winter hanging on in the cold air, but the sun was nice. He relaxed, shutting his eyes.

It was a loud yelp that made him sit up. He looked around and noticed a strange glimmer through the trees, where he'd been sat by the water earlier. He hurried back.

It was not something he'd expected. Before him stood Jean, her arms wrapped around the neck of Scott as she melded her mouth with his. Yet, it wasn't Jean. Her skin was too pale; her hair too red; her open eyes too dark and the expression too harsh. He let out a yell, but she shut her eyes and returned her focus to kissing the man. Except, he watched Scott's legs buckle and he crumbled. He watched the skin of Scott's face pull off, as though it were nothing more than sand.

Jean stood tall; her arms open wide as she pulled the dust towards her. Logan let out a yell and ran at her. He wasn't sure what was happening, or what to do. But he threw himself at her. She dodged smoothly, almost as though she had floated away, and then walked off into the trees.

Logan's attention turned to Scott before she had even left his sight. The kid lay on the ground, curled into a tight ball. He wasn't moving.

"Scott?" Logan knelt down beside him. He wasn't wearing his glasses, the sight of Scott's bare face was strange, and Logan faltered in his attempt to get the kid up. He looked around to see if he could spot where the ruby-quartz glinted in the sun. A glimmer of red, and Logan went to get it.

He turned around and froze. The kid was sat with his eyes wide open. Blue irises moving around rapidly as he took in everything.

"Wha-...? Scott?"

He made his way back over, shoving the glasses into his jacket pocket. Crouching down, he watched all the emotions flit over the young man's face.

"C'mon Slim. Let's get back."

He grasped the kid's arm and pulled him up, holding his other arm as well when he swayed.

"You ok?"

"I can... see... colour. Logan... But, I can't remember which colours are which. I know your hair is either brown or blonde, but I don't know which. Surely, the sky is blue and the grass is green, but... red. It's the only colour I really know. There is so little red..."

Scott's face was pale and he seemed weak with shock. Logan sat him down before he fainted.

"You ok?" he repeated.

"..." His mouth moved but no words came out. He tried again. "I don't know... Maybe? I don't think that's Jean though."

He hadn't thought so; so very similar, but not quite right. He decided they'd sit for a while. The kid wasn't moving and they had both arrived on motorbikes. It'd be no good if Cyke blacked out while riding.

* * *

_Remember, I don't own X-Men, nor do I own the actors. T.T and I wouldn't need a job if I made money off this._


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks to pinbot and Der schwarze Prinz for reviewing the first chapter!_

* * *

It was early morning when they got back to the mansion. Logan decided they needed to talk to the professor. His insights on this would most likely be helpful. Scott objected to this though. It was not even 7am; the professor would still be asleep.

Logan grunted unhappily, but he agreed. Regardless, he still took Scott to the medical bay himself; Slim told him how to take his blood pressure, how to check his heart rate, how to check he was fine in the absence of a doctor.

"Jean... taught me how to. In case we ever lost her." His tears were falling down his face again. "She was... good like that."

Apparently the kid was just in shock. Things could be worse. He had yet to figure out how the kid could see properly again though.

"C'mon. Drink your water then go lie down."

Scott was fidgeting with his glass, no obvious interest in drinking its contents. Logan grabbed one of the blankets of a bed and wrapped it around his shoulders.

Part of him did not want to be here. He was somewhat committed to the school, yes. He was not interested in helping a grown man. However, he knew Scott was having a bad time. The kid may be annoying, his sense of humour seemingly non-existent and his possessiveness painful. His fiancée had died, then come back to life and tried to kill him. He had a feeling the man's luck was not amazing.

"Oh, my boy..." The soft breath was accompanied by the whir of electronics.

Scott didn't look up. He simply scowled and huddles deeper into the blanket. Logan remained where he was, by Scott's side.

"You're projecting so loudly, Scott. May I look properly?"

A minute nod and the professor wheeled over to his boy. He raised his hands either side of Scott's hung head and his eyes drifted shut. It seemed like an eternity the two shared a mind and Logan was left on the outside; waiting.

Scott raised his head and managed a smile as Xavier's face contorted with horror and pity.

"My boy..." He pulled Scott down into his arms and embraced the other tightly.

Scott burrowed his face into the neck of his mentor and hung on. It was a strange scene to behold, Logan decided. At first, he didn't quite know why; then it occurred to him. Charles Xavier was a man who kept everyone by his side by held no one close. From what he'd heard, the last one he had held close was Erik Lehnsherr, who had been unable to accept Chuck's desire for human-mutant equality. He had proceeded to betray his trust.

Another odd point was Cyclops. Logan had grown to know the man as a strong willed person who fought for what he wanted and hid his emotions away. He was a role model for the students in the way he accepted his mutation and carried on with life. Storm had told him enough to fully understand that.

To see the two men hold each other as though they were fragile was uncomfortable. He supposed he had not viewed Scott's weaker side which had undoubtedly surfaced after his lover had died, but the boy had hidden away in his room, out of the sight of everyone. He sighed and crossed his arms. He knew this place was like a family, but he never realised how dysfunctional it was.

"Logan, if I might ask a favour?"

"What?"

"_Please look after Scott._" It took Logan a moment to realise the man was speaking telepathically to him. "_I'm afraid he needs to heal. His powers are gone. I can't see if they have just been buried or if she has altered his DNA, but I cannot find trace of it._"

Logan scowled; that didn't sound good but he waited to speak, not wanting to miss anything the man said.

"_I will take Storm, and we shall go and see if we can find her. The link between her mind and Scott's is extraordinary. It has grown for nearly 10 years, and I have an idea of where she is._"

"Just you and Storm?" Scott looked up, first at Logan, then Xavier. The man gave his charge a soft smile before turning his attention back to Logan.

"_Don't worry. I do have a plan. Please just help Scott get back to normal._"

He gave Scott a final smile before turning and leaving.

"Bedtime then."

"Where did he say he was going with Storm?"

"Didn't say."

Scott gave Logan a weird look but he didn't say anything. They left the lower levels and made their ways up to the teachers' wing. Scott dialled the code into his room and stepped inside. Logan followed.

A look around the room answered why Scott was unable to recover from the loss of his fiancée. There were little bits of her everywhere in here; a mug on the desk with her lips printed in lipstick on it; her coat hung on the back of the door; her makeup on the windowsill, by the mirror; her shoes beside Scott's under the bed. It was painful.

"They any spare rooms around here?"

"Umm... Yeah..."

"Let's go. You aren't staying here."

Some friends he had. How could they not know what his room was like? Morbid... still, maybe they were hoping he'd pull out of it. Perhaps they hadn't realised how human he was beneath the mask, beneath his teacher face, or his X-Man face.

"Hey, Slim. C'mon. Grab something to sleep in, cos you're not staying here."

They only passed one other person on the way to a new room, the new mechanics teacher, from what Logan remembered. He didn't say anything though. He repeated the code Scott dialled in to himself, and then made sure the kid went in. The room was decorated with the same wood panelling that occurred throughout the house. There were two beds, about a foot apart from each other, but they were both a decent size.

Logan nodded, muttered about coming back then turned to get some stuff for himself. He hurried to his room, which was still in the students' wing. He had been meaning to move to the teacher's side anyway.

Once in his room, Logan sat on the end of his bed with his head in his hands. This day had been exhausting, and now he had to go babysit.

* * *

Scott curled up on a bed in the new room. He lay still for a minute, and then turned over. Another moment before he turned back. It was uncomfortable. The smell was all wrong, and this room was empty; blank... alone. She wasn't here at all. His distress sent pain through his mind. The pain behind his eyes was not linked to his mutation, or even his current lack of.

He lay on his back and stared at the roof. His low light vision had definitely improved. He could see everything, even with the light off and the curtains drawn, just a ray of light from the approaching dawn tried to break though. He figured it was due to the absence of sunglasses that he could see so well.

One short hour ago he had been in the medical bay, sat before the man he often viewed as his father. The other had expressed concern over his sudden change, as well as over Jean.

Jean.

His dear fiancée. Undead fiancée? Hopefully not, he wasn't really interested in zombies. They were supposed to eat your flesh, if he recalled his teenage years correctly, not pull your skin off.

He was still sore from where she had been atomising him; the back of his hands, the back of his neck and his mouth were the worst. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to settle his mind down, but it kept focussing around Jean. If she was alive, why was he still so sensitive to telepathic waves? He'd suspected the Professor was conversing in Logan's head, it'd increased his migraine. Yet, if Jean was alive she should fill the hole that was left in his mental defences. It made no sense.

His mind did finally start to settle, and he felt the pain sink in as he tried to find his girl. Though he searched, though he knew she was alive, he found nothing. He unconsciously pushed his mind harder. She should be there. The pain increased, but it would be worth it. If only he could find her.

He felt tears fill his eyes as his head threatened to leave from the pain. He jumped when he realised someone was shaking his shoulder. Jean? Maybe?

He opened his eyes, ignoring the sharp pains that amplified when the light hit his eyes. It was Logan that was holding him. A wave of dizziness caught him, and he sagged, trying to raise a hand to his head.

After another moment, he looked up. Logan was sat beside him. Not saying anything. He did look concerned, but somehow still disinterested. Scott couldn't stop a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked around. Who'd turned on the lights? Probably Logan. He could hear the children distantly... They were outside. It was probably about 9 am now. He hadn't really rested long, about 2 hours. A glance at the clock told him he wasn't far off.

Scott slumped back down, exhausted and jumped again when Logan lay beside him.

"To make sure you don't hurt yourself thrashing like that." He muttered displeasure clear upon his face. Scott frowned. He'd been thrashing?

Sleep caught him up quickly, and lay near the warmth of Logan; though decidedly not touching him. Scott felt his mind give out with barely any tries to find its partner.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to Kyer for the review!_

* * *

Scott sighed slightly as he rubbed salve onto his face, hands and neck. The past two weeks had been long. It was true he was sleeping better; his mind didn't seem to be trying to find its connection to Jean. However, Scott was unsure if that was because there was something resembling Jean around, or because he felt to at ease by sleeping in the same room as Logan. They weren't sharing a bed anymore, but both men felt better about that; Logan because he didn't want to hurt anyone, and Scott felt weird lying beside a man he was only just friends with.

Logan was around a fair bit though. He kept making sure the young teacher was eating, which was fairly irritating and he was there when he went to sleep, which was the exact opposite. They were not arguing much now though, and Scott did not constantly feel like wringing the man's neck.

It wasn't as though the others weren't sticking close as well. 'Ro had taken to sitting with him during breakfast and morning break. She was always welcome though, as she brought hot drinks. Scott looked outside as he waited for the kettle to boil, watching 2 students steady a large post as another filled cement in around it. He smiled. Everyone was working hard, even though the damage from Stryker had been fixed. The school was an old building that needed a certain amount of refurbishing done, so the older students had continued on as they had more free periods than the younger ones.

The day was bright, the last frosts of the night melted from the sun. A part of him enjoyed seeing the green of the grass and the blue of the sky. The carpet in the staff room was brown, the same colour as Logan's eyes.

He also hated seeing colour; he hated what it represented. He felt useless; like he no longer belonged here. Not that everyone here was a mutant. The new mechanics teacher wasn't, though his daughter was. The head chef wasn't and neither was her sister who also helped in the kitchens.

However, everyone fitted in because they knew where they should be. Scott felt so lost. He was no longer Cyclops. Not only due to his lack of mutation, but he had realised how badly he'd fallen apart from losing Jean. She was his soul mate, it made sense that it hurt. However, he knew he should have been stronger. Pathetic didn't cover how he'd been.

He hoped he wouldn't edge back towards that again now that he was caught between an ordinary human and a mutant. Hank had said he still counted as a mutant, but it was as though someone had turned his powers off and Scott was unable to flick it back. He had said practise should do it, but the man had no clue how to practise this. It was fairly distressing, so Scott had thrown himself back into school work again to forget... which had resulted in 'Ro hanging out with him, Logan sleeping near him and the Professor checking in on him. It was good to know they cared, but it was frustrating.

Behind him, Scott could hear Kurt hovering. The man could be very polite most of the time, but he loved to annoy people as well. Strange sense of humour... turning around, Scott could see it was purposeful hovering. The man didn't really know him, so reacted to how others treated him. Unfortunately this was not just with respect but with great care, as though he was fragile.

In quiet moments, Scott could still here the verse Kurt had recited after Jean's death. It gave him an unusual strength when he thought of it. He was pleased that the mutant had started a group where they could talk quietly and repeat comforting psalms. He may not be overly religious, but some of the students were, and many simply found Kurt to be a comforting person. Not that Scott was complaining, but he didn't understand why the man was still here. He could have returned home long ago. Perhaps he felt accepted here...

He heard the professor calling him. He finished making his coffee, took the papers of the man and left.

* * *

Recently, Mr Summers seemed to be doing better. Marie was glad. He may have been difficult at times, but his grief had been so consuming that she didn't think that many of the students had been comfortable near him.

She had heard rumours that Dr Grey was back. She hoped so. The woman had been very kind. She had been responsible; kind of like an older sister. She had been more than a teacher at least.

The teachers Marie had had in her old school had been distant. All of the ones here were warm. Mr Bradshaw, the new mechanics teacher was her favourite. He was from Texas, and had an amazingly dry wit. He'd convinced her to ring home and let her parents know how she was doing.

To be truthful, Marie was glad she had done so. Her Mom had been pleased to hear from her, asking her how she was; if she was going to go back... her Dad... he'd been less certain. He'd sounded pleased, but Marie had lived with her parents her whole life. She could tell when her Dad was struggling with something. She wished he'd managed to spit it out. It was eating her up not knowing what had been bothering him.

She'd told her Mom where she was, that she was still getting an education, that she still couldn't touch people. She said she'd think about going back to visit and that she was very sorry for just running out like that.

She was not having a good time with Bobby though. Watching him cuddle up to her friend, Kitty was hard. It made her long for physical contact. A part of her almost wanted that to be the reason that he spent so much time with Kitty, but most of her was hurt that he wasn't looking at her anymore. He held her clothed hand but his eyes looked for someone else. If she could touch... if she could actually hold him, and kiss him then he would see her differently.

She hated her mutation. It was nothing but trouble. It'd gotten her kidnapped and now it stopped her ever being close to someone. 'Friends forever' was not the kind of relationship she wanted.

* * *

Scott sat beside Logan as they drove over to Jean's childhood home. The man was staring into his eyes, trying to tell him something. Scott's mind jumped momentarily back to the floor of the staff room, its off-brown colour. He did that a lot now though, comparing colours; they had lessened his ability to focus.

In the front, 'Ro kept her eyes on the road. Beside her sat the professor, his eyes distant as his mind was elsewhere. Scott smiled softly. He was beginning to realise just how completely like a father to him the professor was. He was like a parent, bobbed down behind his child as they took their first steps forward, unseen but ready to provide support. Only, now Scott had turned his head and seen what was there.

"Scott." Logan hissed quietly.

He turned his face back to the other. He could feel the concern rolling from him. He could practically hear the loner asking if he knew what he was doing; what they were going to do.

"Don't worry." He muttered under his breath, knowing Logan could hear. "I know she wasn't exactly stable, but the Professor thinks that with him, we stand the best chance of getting her to come back with us. He's worried Magneto will get her."

"Why are me and 'Ro here then?" he mumbled back, frowning slightly.

"In case things go bad. I can't fight as well as I could, and the professor can't really fight at all. Erik knows all his weaknesses, you see..."

Logan nodded his head and returned to staring out a window. Scott waited for him to ask why they were driving instead of flying, but it didn't come. He wasn't sure why he'd expected it though. Maybe the Wolverine had asked the professor. The man no longer looked so far away.


	4. Chapter 4

_Once again, thanks to Kyer for your review!_

* * *

In the small cul-de-sac, they were met by Erik Lehnsherr. He smiled and exchanged pleasantries with Xavier, though it was hard to miss the tension bubbling just below the surface. Scott could see the pain in his teacher's eyes at the helmet worn by Erik – a physical symbol of the distrust between the former friends.

Its colour was a brown-red that was not his favourite, but seemed to occur commonly everywhere. It was the colour of old sweaters; of cars; of some wood. Yet somehow, this everyday colour fitted Magneto better than total black.

"Maroon." He spun around, recognising the answer to his unspoken question regarding the colour's name. Logan grinned lightly at him before turning to watch Magneto. Scott glanced the other way, turning his attention to 'Ro as she folded her coat up and placed it in the boot.

He held in a sigh in a bid to appear professional, regardless of his speeding thoughts. He couldn't help but wonder if people found this world as dull as his red one, or if they too got so distracted by its vibrant beauty.

The professor called him over, and with Erik, they entered the home Jean once called home.

* * *

Jean was in red. It felt almost iconic. She wore the one colour he'd always seen, as though she didn't want him to miss her. He couldn't. Even in his least favourite colour she was beautiful.

She reminded Scott of a dancer, her long legs clad tightly in red; cloth falling elegantly from one shoulder, leaving the other bear; her back straight and her hands resting gently on her knees. So beautiful, yet so unlike his Jean, who liked to curl up in a comfortable chair, or on their bed once they were out the way of the children.

She didn't seem right, and Scott wanted to shout to Logan to come in. He shook the thought away though. He was the field leader of the X-Men, and this was once his fiancée, even if he was currently uncertain of her identity. He did not need to cower behind someone, ever, at all. If she had any semblance of Jean in her she would not harm him. He squashed the idea that the woman would have killed him at the Lake if she hadn't been stopped. He may not really think of her as Jean right now, but he still wanted to trust her.

The professor moved closer to her, Jean... or whoever she was; _Phoenix_ was the name that rippled in the back of his mind... he was trying to convince her to come back with them, to let him put guards up in her mind to control her power again.

Scott felt a ripple of anger pulse through him, and started when he realised it wasn't just his own. It was hers too. Maybe... it was Jean? He had had a telepathic bond with her...

His rational mind knew the professor would only do that if it was vital. He reminded himself that the man always held firmly to his belief of justice, and peace. Scott knew nothing of Jean before the Professor found her.

He silently hoped that Logan and Ororo had enough sense to try and get in here, around the guards Magneto had placed at the entrance. More pleasantries had been exchanged, but Scott had simply stood back.

He watched as Erik tried to convince Jean that she should be free to use her power as she wished. He watched as Charles tried to convince her she needed some amount of control over her power so it did not control her. The argument began to get fiercer, as much as it could for such refined people at least. Erik's voice had raised and Xavier had shifted forwards in his chair. Jean's silence spoke louder than both. Her eyes drifted over to Scott. He could hear her in his head. It didn't feel right.

He did want her back, of course he did. She was his love. However... like this she frightened him. He could feel her rub something in the back of his head, he felt a burning behind his eyes. But it was gone in a moment as she brushed it again, and turned her attention to the other men. He felt a resounding 'You're mine' in his head and allowed a moment of panic to shoot through his body at the thought of Jean viewing him as a prize.

It had always been Jean who had told him that he was his own person; that no matter what people in his past had told him, he should think of himself as a subject, a person who could do things for himself and not as an object, a passive thing.

In his head, he could hear the professor telling Jean to return with him. He could hear Jean's angry retorts. He listened to Erik shout over the loud noises of an unexpected and very strong wind, provoking her. He wondered if it was the damage done to his mind that allowed him to hear their conversation, or if it was a link to this woman.

The doors rattled as the telepathic exchange between Professor Xavier and Jean became more intense. A chair, plants, anything lying on the ground was pushed back into the walls. Scott could feel himself being moved. He leaned forward; pressing his weight into the force like one would on a particularly windy day. Erik's older body was unable to counter it and he fell back, pushed into the kitchen and up against the cupboards. His distraction cost him his position and he slipped. He was pushed against a wall.

Horror numbed him as the professor rose from his chair to hover above the ground; a strange dust beginning to pull from his body. Scott shut his eyes and screamed in his mind for help, unwilling to watch Professor Xavier destroyed.

Fear for the Professor forced his eyes open again, taking in the terrible sight before him.

* * *

They had to get into the house. Logan just knew. He could feel a cry for help, and wondered if it was the professor. It didn't feel like him. Regardless... they had to get into the house. He nodded at the white haired woman and bared his claws. 'Ro began to rise.

Logan dodged out the way of the large man and rolled. He spun around and carefully watched the other, his feet moving him gently in a circle, ready to dodge if needed. He ignored the electricity that rushed through the air with 'Ro and jumped away, and the man barrelled towards him again. His claws did little to stop him, and the man laughed.

He could hear things rattling inside the house; he could smell the fear of someone. He knew Scott was in there; Scott would have no powers right now. He could almost feel Scott's fear. He had to get inside. The juggernaut man threw him, and he crashed through a wall. Nearby, he could see Magneto pressed into the cupboards just below a sink. Logan heard another crash and 'Ro's soft voice issued a curse. He turned his attention to the door. It was shut, but he needed to be on the other side.

Digging his claws into the ground, he pulled himself through the gale towards the door. Gravity shifted and he was pushed into the ceiling. After a brief moment of disorientation, Logan was moving again. His claws sliding into plaster instead of wood. He needed to be in that room.

Scott was the only thing on his mind. 'Ro would manage, the professor had unmatched telepathic ability, he would be fine. Scott was his concern. He had promised Marie he'd keep her math teacher safe, and he would. Reaching a hand out, Logan slid the door open and began to pull himself into the room. When he looked around, his blood froze.

Jean was in the same stance he had seen at the Lake, her head raised high, her eyes dark and her arms spread wide. Scott was pressed into the wall, muted horror evident in his face. It was unsurprising. Before them the professor was floating half a foot off the floor. His face was being pushed by the forces of Jean, skin rippling and the dust that he'd seen coming off Scott at the Lake was now being wrenched from the professor's skin.

He could hear Scott's horrified yells and turned to watch him, the sight of the professor before him too unbearable to remain focussed on. The young man's eyes were wide but his mouth shut. Maybe the yells were Logan's... he couldn't tell. He felt numb.

Another moment and he did hear Scott yell out.

"Jean! Stop it! Please!"

She turned her attention to her fiancé, ex- fiancé...? In his numb mind the nature of their relationship seemed to matter. He wanted to laugh. He didn't dare look over at the professor. There had been so much dust.

"You are mine."

"No... No... Jean... Shit... No..."

Scott's eyes were not on Jean, but where the Professor was. Logan felt his stomach shift. He was abruptly dropped to the ground. Silence ruled. Jean floated out of the room, and Logan turned his head.

The Professor's chair was there, undamaged. The Professor was not. He clenched his teeth but couldn't shut his eyes. He couldn't turn away, his whole body paralysed in shock. He could hear the sobs of his friend and gave his head a shake, forcing his limbs to move.

Logan crawled over to Scott and pulled the young man into his arms. He didn't want to see the streams falling from pale blue eyes. He fastened his arms around young man and tried breathe normally, but his air only seemed to come in short bursts. He gasped and watched the room blur as his own eyes watered.

Scott burrowed deeper into his arms and Logan buried his face into the thick brown hair. He decided they could sit here long though. He heard Magneto quietly leave. He heard the man's angry response the way one of his lackey's dismissed Charles Xavier. He heard 'Ro let out a wail and fall to the ground as she acknowledged the empty chair.

He turned to look at her, barely four feet to his right and unfolded one arm from around Scott, opening it out for her. She threw herself against him as she screamed out her pain. Scott curled in tighter on himself, his face burrowed into his knees.

As they sat, Scott curled into Logan, with 'Ro collapsed half over his back and half into Logan, the older mutant decided they needed a long moment. No one would be able to drive yet anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

_Again, thanks to Kyer for the review._

* * *

It had been dark when they had returned, fairly late. Hank had come out to meet them, concerned about injuries as no one had called in to keep him updated.

He checked them all over, concern over Jean's power filling him and he wanted to make sure they were unharmed. He had solemnly informed them he would handle telling the students in the morning, before allowing them to leave.

'Ro had gone to find Kurt, her distress not yet controlled fully. Scott had turned and headed to the teacher's wing. Logan followed him.

In their room, Scott had mechanically gone about his routine for bed, but had stood and stared at his bed blankly once he was ready. Logan tried to ignore the chill that moved through him. He stripped and showered, wondering how they would deal with the morning.

Once done, he'd moved back into the bedroom and saw Scott. With a hand on his shoulder, Logan directed the kid to his bed and lay beside him. If this is how Scott had acted when Jean died then it was no wonder he'd been unable to recover.

Not that Jean was dead... Instead she had killed a much loved father figure. The chill returned to him and his determinedly pushed the thought from his mind. Sleep first. Worrying could come later.

* * *

Scott spent the next few days locked up in the professor's office. He was slowly working through the files, trying to get everything sorted; make appropriate delegations, cancel certain agreements, inform everyone of the professor's death. He rearranged and cancelled meetings accordingly; keeping the meetings with prospective students, but cancelling things that no longer had any meaning without Charles Xavier.

He returned to their room late each night, looking exhausted. Logan wanted to object, but he knew that things needed sorting. Maybe it was better to get it all out of the way. The students had been miserable too. A dark gloom had sunk over the mansion, and it had not lifted. The cheery laughs and conversations seemed to be a thing of the past. 'Ro had found her inner strength again, and was leading the school as best she could while her friend dealt with the phone conversations. No one discussed succession, but according to Hank, Scott's name was on the Professor's will.

She would wait to see how Scott managed before thinking about the conversation she had had with the professor, regarding how fit Scott was to take over. She was willing him to recover, perfectly content to remain a history and a geography teacher without adding extra responsibility in there.

* * *

It was during a late lunch in the staff room that Scott brought up hiring a new teacher.

"The Professor taught the sciences, literature and he gave some philosophy classes as well. We need someone... else now." His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, but kept his chin up. No one had wanted to hear about any kind of replacement for the Professor, but it was unavoidable. Scott was struggling to keep up with all the paperwork that needed sorting and the others were trying to keep up with all their work while covering the Professor's lessons.

'Ro soon agreed to look into the hiring and Scott gave her a weak smile. Logan watched as everyone set about their work again. He decided to go see how the kids were doing. There was a group sat in front of the TV, watching a David Attenborough Documentary. There was a group at a table by the window playing a card game that looked suspiciously like poker. Marie, Bobby and 2 young students were sat in some comfy chairs by a radio, staring listlessly out the window. He went over to them first.

"Hey kids."

He received a soft chorus of replies. He sat himself in a chair.

"You ok?" he wanted to be sure how they were all coping. But he wasn't entirely sure how to say this.

"It's been... hard." Replied Bobby. Kitty came over and sat down. She sat beside Marie though, rather than Bobby, as though she had noticed the rift she had caused accidently.

"I know." More needed to be said. The words evaded him.

"It's just... he made me feel... normal. I had gotten used to hearing how bad mutants are and then he... told me it was ok. I ... I felt... safe." The others nodded mutely in agreement with Bobby.

Logan was thinking of something to say when he felt a sharp pain in his head. It was sorrow. Deep sorrow. The idea that his father would never return. The man who had taken him in when all others had hated or feared him. It hurt. The grief was overwhelming. There were undertones of anger that the woman he loved had changed enough to cause him this pain.

Logan stood and left without saying bye to the kids. It hurt. He knew how to fix it, in the back of his mind. He made his way to Scott's office. The Canadian slipped inside and shut the door behind him. Scott was sobbing, his head in his arms. It was as though they shared a blinding grief. Logan moved to Scott's side, pulled the chair out away from the desk and kneeling down he tugged the kid onto his lap and into an embrace.

Scott clung to him. The pained moans reminded Logan of his reaction to Jean's death. He rubbed a large hand over the man's back and gently hushed him, as though holding a child after a bad dream. Logan could feel the damp of Scott's tears on his neck. It was strange and uncomfortable. He buried a hand into the kid's hair. The pain he'd been feeling was ebbing away, leaving content exhaustion in its place.

They sat for a while and Logan stopped rocking Scott, stopping patting his back. He held still with the kid protected by his arms. A glance up and he could see the computer screen on Scott's desk. It was open on a page about mutant cures. He tightened his grip minutely. There were papers and a pen on the desk where Scott had apparently been making notes, but they were at the wrong angle for Logan to read.

He felt brief irritation that felt completely his own. Nothing shared, as Scott still lay passively in his arms. The thought that they could cure mutation. Scott had lost his, and it was bothering the poor kid no end. The result of loss of mutation was clearly not a good one, especially not if you felt accepted for who you are, mutant genes included.

He hoped they could get things back the way there had been. The kid needed his powers back. He didn't seem capable of coping as the X-Men's team leader when he didn't feel like he fit in. He leaned his head back against a wall and sighed. Things really weren't going well for this particular team of goody goodies.

Scott muttered something and wiggled closer to Logan. His shut eyes and even breathing indicated he was no longer awake.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks so much to Kyer (as always!) and Tragic-Her0 for reviewing._

* * *

Marie stared out the window, her mind in turmoil. The Professor was dead. Logan was so busy. Mr Summers was rarely seen anymore. Bobby was still spent a lot of time at Kitty's side while she struggled with her grief. She watched as some of the children laughed loudly and ran around the basketball court.

It was painful. She felt so alone and she'd always had someone to talk to. Sally, one of the younger girls, had told her to talk to Mr Summers about what was bothering her. He'd always been an unofficial counsellor to them, but he was always doing something. He spent a lot of time locked up in his office, and he didn't hang around after his lessons anymore. Mr Summers wouldn't get it anyway. True, he used to have problems with his mutation, but they had not been anything compared to hers. He just had to wear glasses and could still interact with people the same. He had lost it as well. He did not have to deal with it forever anymore.

She felt a twinge of guilt as she had heard what her teacher had gone through, to an extent. There had been rumours of problems with the telepathic bond he'd had with the Dr Grey, he'd been going to marry; she wasn't sure if they were true or not. She did know he'd been a mess, everyone could see it. He was doing far better and she felt pride that she had helped with that, by telling Logan.

She mentally crushed the emotions and stood up. She was going. It was true that people here had some understanding of what was going, but the Professor was the only one who'd really got her. She was alone, again. But she wouldn't just sit by. The cure was out there. It made no sense to stay here when she could eliminate the source of her problems.

Marie began to throw stuff into a bag.

* * *

Logan was not thrilled with recent developments. They had gained another idiot – a young man by the name of Warren. He was a mutant, fairly obviously, with large white wings. He'd glued himself to Scott and ignored the fact that Scott was in no fit state to help him.

They were not formally telling the students he was here, something to do with the part where his father had developed this 'cure' that Storm so venomously objected to. Logan didn't care, so long as he started to leave Scott alone. The kid was looking tired again; haggard and miserable.

He was in the staffroom, drinking coffee as he watched different members of staff wander in and out. Curled up on the sofa beside him was Scott, fast asleep. As soon as the kid had gone over, he'd asked Bradshaw, one of the newer teachers, to show Warren around. The man had thankfully realised what Logan wanted and left with the young man. Scott shifted and rolled in a tight ball over in the other direction, so his head was on Logan's lap instead of the arm of the sofa.

Logan smiled slightly and rang his fingers through soft brown hair. He imagined he could feel the kid's breath hitting his skin through his jeans and felt his face grow hot. He raised his eyes away from Scott's mouth and stared at the wall. That was weird. Sure they had been sharing a bed since the Professor had died, but he'd not expected to even think about wanting Scott like that. It was a long time since he'd got any.

Banging on the door pulled his attention from his stray thoughts. It was Bobby, and he appeared upset.

"She's gone."

"What?"

"Rogue. She's gone. I thought she'd just wanted sometime to herself, but she left a note."

The child thrust out a hand with a sheet of paper in it.

'_Dear Bobby,_

_I was going to write this, but I thought someone should know that I'm not here. I've not been kidnapped or anything this time, but I have to go._

_I'm alone, and it hurts. I might visit my parents, but that can wait till after I am fixed. I can't have this mutation anymore._

_Maybe when I'm back you'll see me for who I am as a whole._

_Love_

_Rogue_'

* * *

A growling noise pulled Scott from his sleep. He shifted and sat up. One look at Bobby's face and Logan's stance was all it took for Scott to realise the problem. He quickly stood up, staggering slightly as a brief wave of dizziness hit him, and then moved over.

"Where's she gone? For the cure?"

Bobby mutely nodded his head, eyes achingly expressive.

Logan stared for a moment his large brown eyes searching Scott's face.

"How'd you do that?"

"What?"

"You always know what we're talking about..."

"It's kinda obvious." Scott looked down at the brown carpet of the staffroom floor before looking back into Logan's eyes. "You and Bobby don't have much in common. He's upset and you are angry."

Logan smiled. It crinkled the corner of his eyes slightly and his face went slightly pink. Scott quite liked this colour. Too pale to be red, but it gave Logan's expression a rather lovely tint, though it was well hidden by his facial hair.

"Mr Summers? I don't know what to do..." Scott watched Logan a moment longer before tearing his eyes away to look at Bobby.

"Don't worry." He smiled. He wasn't sure if they should go looking for her, but strictly speaking she wasn't in danger. "She'll be fine."

Bobby nodded uncertainly, before leaving to go to class. Logan had gone back to expressing his anger by glaring and lightly growling. Scott pulled him back into the staffroom and let the door shut before fastening his arms around the man. A moment later and Logan's arms tightly encased Scott. His growling had ceased, though he couldn't see the man's expression as his face was in Logan's neck.

It was warm and Scott was content to remain still and not move. Logan's arms always felt safe and though he'd gotten used to waking up in them, it was strange to be stood in the staffroom like this. His hands clenched in Logan's shirt and he breathed in deeply the smell of his friend.

He started having dreams about Logan. It was a mixed blessing because they were not nightmares, but he slept beside the man so it had the potential to be very embarrassing. Logan didn't thrash anymore, thankfully, so Scott was usually the first to wake up.

Just after Charles had died, Scott had told Logan he wasn't allowed to have nightmares. Apparently he hadn't had anymore. Scott didn't know how it had worked, or even if it was his command that had stopped the older mutant's nightmares, but stranger things had occurred.

He felt a soft kiss pressed into his hair before Logan pulled away, his face a shade of pink again. It was definitely a good colour on him.

He decided to focus on what Magneto would be doing next and headed off to his office.

* * *

Logan watched as Scott gave him a smile and left. He did like having the kid in his arms, but the urge to kiss him had hit him hard. He sat back down and smiled, doing his best to suppress images of Scott that were not appropriate for a child infested school.


	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks so much to Kyer and Amonshy; just a brief comment to add here though. No one can pull bald off like Patrick Stewart. However, if you have seen Tom Hardy in Nemesis, he does a fine job of it. He is playing a younger version of Picard though.=)_

* * *

Scott kept his mind firmly on the work he had to do. He was tracking Magneto. He wasn't certain, but the man would probably be heading towards the pharmaceutical company that Warren's father owned. He had hated trying to ply information out of the younger man, but it had been necessary.

It had also been an irritation. Warren had plastered himself to Scott's side. It wasn't as though the young man was flirting with him or anything, he just made Scott uncomfortable. He kept with Scott and no one else, but Scott had a feeling it was trust issues. He had always been the one that children had come to when they had problems. Charles had always told him he had a calming presence that others found very easy to trust in.

Warren clearly trusted him more than the other members of staff, and Scott couldn't bring himself to tell the man to piss off, annoying though he was. Scott was a man who appreciated silence. It wasn't so much that he wanted to be alone as he needed it. Jean had understood, Logan did understand but Warren did not. He was surrounded by children all day, from as early as 8am some days until after dinner. He needed time to himself, as all the teachers did. It was a definite reason for having members of non-teaching staff who could look after the kids after school hours.

Their new adult did not understand this. He was around the children during breaks and when they had free periods, but not during class time as well. It wasn't that he spoke, because he didn't always. He sometimes made conversation, or tried, until he realised Scott wasn't interested in holding his end of it. Usually, he was just there. Scott did not know if it was the great white wings, or if it was the fact that he loomed just in Scott's peripheral vision, a constant presence that kept Scott's own guard up constantly. He also irritated Logan.

The two could not be in the same room anymore. At first, Logan had just scowled when he had seen the other, sometimes he had gotten a look that made Scott sure the man was ranting inside his head. It had escalated to Logan snapping a response to anything Warren said, and then Warren had started taunting.

It wasn't even just that though. It was the way Logan seemed protective of him. He had gotten into the habit of standing in front of Scott when he spoke to Warren. The young man did not know if this was just because Wolverine had pack instinct wired throughout him, or if it was something else.

This something else really could be one of two things, Scott decided one day as he stared at the faded grey of Logan's leather jacket. The back of his jacket, a view Scott was getting very used to. He was probably at the stage where he could recognise Logan just from his back now- Though it didn't seem necessary. Scott could already tell when Logan was in the room without looking for him. He had that kind of presence.

The first of the two things was protectiveness. They were still sharing a bed, so Logan always knew when he had a nightmares, or bouts of insomnia. He could hide it from others, but Logan still acted a little afraid he'd shatter or something. It was really quite infuriating. He wanted to shout out and object. Yes, he did know how useless he had been. However, seeing Phoenix had woke him up.

She'd given him a much needed kick and he had started putting himself back together. He was trying, even though he knew he probably seemed like a child clumsily gluing old pottery back together- trying to find the right pieces to stick together and he'd probably lose some pieces on the floor, to be swept up with the rubbish. He knew he'd just be an ugly old vase glued back together to make something even more hideous. Useless.

Or, Logan could be jealous. The very thought send a shiver through him. It stubbornly contradicted his own self image and no matter how hard he tried, it was not a thought he could squash. Logan always seemed angrier with Warren when Scott was feeling tired, or down, or when he just couldn't be bothered with Scott. He had gotten used to those warm brown eyes drilling into his own. The man seemed capable of picking up his different moods from one look.

However, those looks really were something. They warmed him to his bones. It was embarrassing how often he lay in bed with the man and couldn't talk to him. Physically could not talk to him. His throat would close up and his face would start to burn. The man probably viewed him as a child, still in need of some security blanket.

There were times he told himself this was acceptable. He had lost his best friend and fiancée, and then he had lost his father. He felt undeniably alone and sharing a bed with someone gave him strength to get up on a morning, to go face his students, to go face the other dangers that still troubled the X-Men.

Magneto. Maroon Magneto. Why would the man want to go to find the cure? He was convinced this was where they would find the other, but he was not sure why. He knew he had freed dangerous mutants, he knew that during one of these excursions his faithful sidekick, Mystique, had been shot with the cure. He knew the cure worked. Unless he planned to destroy it... Or planned to kill however had created it.

Scott had no doubt the man had reacted just as vehemently as 'Ro had to the idea of a cure. The beautiful white haired witch with chocolate coloured skin and pale eyes. She was a good friend. She had been a dear friend to his own Jean and the view of the red phoenix who had taken her place- it had shaken her up. She had taken over as a field leader of the X-Men. The transition had been physically painful, but Scott could not do it anymore. He was still torn between mutant and human; lost and uncertain. He worked hard though.

They had two new science teachers, a woman from Ohio, a few years older than him- She would be nearer Jeans age. She could tell people's sincerity. It was such a weird gift, but no doubt very useful when dealing with children. She also had an eidetic memory. It was useful for taking notes about certain situations as her memory held the details longer than most others. She had started going out with the X-Men. Scott could remember her long black hair hanging in a ponytail encompassed by the black of their uniforms. He had been unable to name the two different types of black; it had left an itch in his mind for several days.

The other teacher was a man in his sixties. He was a gentle man with thin silver hair which had retreated back over most of his head. He could chatter happily and never touch on uncomfortable. It was very relaxing to speak with him. He was a soft spoken but undeniably firm teacher and the students liked him. He originated in Northern Canada, before moving to the West of New England and then to Westchester. He was happy to share his many experiences of where he had lived with people.

Scott had now become the principal of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. There had been a good deal of paperwork involved, and he was relieved it was all out of the way. He was even more pleased that the official visit was complete. They had had several individuals prowling the school, questioning various children, interviewing all the staff. He'd had to keep Warren in the sub-school levels with Hank, Kurt and several of the children who were not officially enrolled into the school.

The children had been asked to refrain from using their powers to show off. They were not prohibited, but simply cautioned from making a spectacle. As 'Ro had loudly pointed out, it was not against the law for them to use their powers... Even if Scott did pessimistically add 'Yet' to that statement.

Logan had gone back to being very protective of him during that time. He'd even made Warren back off. But, Scott had been worrying horribly and Warren was not an idiot- he knew when to back down and stop causing hassle.

With the school side of things running more smoothly, Scott had set about observing anything to do with Worthington Labs. Warren had said they had several spots around the country where the cure would be given out, but it would be after they had finished it would first be given to mutants in San Francisco. Scott was uncertain whether or not Rogue would go to the first 'vaccinations' or whether she was with her parents and would wait for the more wide spread ones.

He knew they had to go to the first one though. Magneto was likely to show as it was so near the labs and he planned to do something. He desperately hoped Phoenix was not with him. He knew he would be unable to stop her if she went for burrowing inside his body and pushing his very self apart from the inside out; as she had tried to do to him at Alkali Lake; as she had done to the Professor.

He focused entirely on his work, determined not to think about it. There was an hour until dinner. He would sit beside Logan and revel in the safe feeling he got from the man.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks so much to DeadEmy, Amonshy, Storylover158,Kyer, Hypersreak, Wolffin and quantuminferno for reviewing._

* * *

A scream ripped through the cool spring air, followed by incoherent jabbering. A young man pressed into an alcove as he hid from _her._ The woman with long red hair and a blank stare. She had killed Sarah with a look. He suppressed his gasping sobs.

"My boy." The soft call of a tall thin man. James looked up, wiping the tears from his blue eyes.

"Here, my boy. Relax. My name is Magneto. And you are?" He felt an almost involuntary snort try to push through the lump in his throat. That wasn't a name... he just stared at the man though.

He had been running with Sarah for nearly thirteen years, since their parents had found out about their mutations.

"You are frightened, yes? You can trust me. There are more of us. We can help."

The offer was tempting. He was desperate for a chance to sit down though, a chance to rest. They'd been running for so long...

The woman in red was standing just behind him, beside a boy playing with fire. There was something unsettling about her.

"What..."His voice was hoarse, he coughed quietly, "What do you do? What do I do?"

"We fight to give mutants their rights. There are those who try to keep us hidden, true. And they can be good people. My dear friend Charles died recently. But he fought for long to hide mutants from the public. We shouldn't have to hide."

"To hide us?" He didn't want to fight. "Do they help many hide?"

The man pulled a sour face. He clearly did not think much of hiding.

"I'm not a coward, but I need to rest." He insisted. "I... Sarah... I don't want to fight..." He glanced nervously at the woman in red again.

Magneto hummed lightly. He watched James' eyes flicker. "Rest, think about it over night. If not... I'll let you hide." A brief look a disdain swept across his face again.

* * *

"To let him visit Xavier's? No."

"But... Mr Summers will look after him."

"No. I have told you boy; that man can't look after himself these days."

"But, Mr Summers always puts the children first." Magneto and flame boy were arguing quietly. Probably in a distant part of the camp, but he could always hear important conversations. He could hone in on them, and gain more knowledge from them than what was said. Sarah had always told him had woman's intuition. But she was gone now.

"Scott is a good man." Creepy Lady breathed.

"I thought you didn't trust him anymore..."

"He doesn't realise he is mine. That... brute is getting in the way. We are connected though. We always have been and no goodie good part of me, or anyone else shall deny me this. Scott Summers belongs to me."

"Still not giving into your telepathy, my dear? He did think he saw you die though. You said it yourself. He did watch your powers pulled Charles apart... into pieces." The man's voice caught as he said the last part. Apparently she had murdered this 'Charles', and it hadn't been in his plan.

"He is mine, but he is good. Let the child run to him. It will be easier to keep track of the others if we keep them in one place."

Xavier's... Scott Summers. If he was allowed to go then he would look these names up. He turned over in his sleeping bag and shut his eyes to attempt to sleep again, but the whispering continued.

"We should head to San Francisco."

"Why?"

"Just off the Golden Gate Bridge. If we cut at the heart of these _cures_ then they will fall. Already there are people lining up, eager to be free of their problems. Mutation is only a problem due to the ignorance and the fear of the rest of the population."

"I know. I know... _God!_ Can I go to bed now?"

"You should not be so disrespectful child. How do you expect to learn?"

"Well, I'm not in school anymore you know."

The voices dimmed as James fell asleep.

* * *

Scott pushed his hair out of his face. It really needed a cut. He frowned as he slid his fingers through his hair again. He leaned back in his chair. Maybe he should just get a new style. He didn't have chunky glasses in the way anymore. He pushed the loose hair on his forehead across to one side, a vague imitation of the popular hair style of teenagers.

He sighed. He was definitely wasting time. The repairs were all done. The kids had done an amazing job and Scott was proud. It was a strange feeling that filled him all over. Nothing entirely new, but it was stronger. However, he was bored now. He had an afternoon with nothing to do. Once upon a time he would have asked favours from other teachers to get Jean the afternoon off and they would have gone out.

He felt cold. He missed Jean. He missed her company, her ability to amuse him, even the witty commentaries she often insisted on giving him inside his head. He gasped softly. His stomach was turning again. Jean...

A light knock on the door caused him to turn his head.

"Aren't you meant t' be working'?"

"I've finished." His voice was slightly nasally from getting himself upset, but maybe Logan wouldn't notice. "Just... sitting about."

"Right. You missed lunch again." The older man was staring deadpan at him. Scott sighed and got up.

"I need a haircut."

"Whatever Slim."

Scott was very fond of Logan. The man did have a good sense of humour – different to Jean's but the man made him laugh. Recently Logan seemed determined to do this often. It was a little odd; they had not had a brilliant relationship before Jean had gone. They had frequently argued and often came to near blows. The Professor being the main reason they did not actually fight in the school.

Now, Logan was... not nice, but he tried to laugh _with_ Scott rather than _at_ him. He didn't give Scott the same human contact he wanted and he didn't go for quiet sarcasm in the back of his head. Logan didn't cover his maths classes or help out with paper work, or whatever else he needed.

However, Logan did not need him to do the ironing (He had troubles with laundry and sorting the colours out), he did not need to make the bed exactly whenever they got up, he didn't need to deal with this because although they were staying in the same room, they were not that close. They were friends as opposed to lovers.

He smiled lightly as he quickly tidied his desk. Logan was very good looking, Scott had definitely noticed. It was hard to deny when he kept having erotic dreams about the man, but they were not in any form of intense relationship.

The phone rang and pulled him back to the present, his final thought on the matter being Logan both looked after him and allowed himself to receive help too. It was refreshing.

"Hello, Xavier's School. What can I do for you?"

"_Hi? Um... Can I speak to Scott Summers?_"

"Speaking. How can I help?"

"_Um... My name is James, and umm... this is the one to help... mutants... right?_"

He quickly got bogged down in helping James, a twenty five year old man who was dealing with the death of his girlfriend. She had been killed by Jean. He helped the man find the train to get and began to sort out an appointment for when the man arrived. They usually only took in children, but after helping Warren and a few others, he couldn't turn anyone away.

He was explaining how to find the school when a plate appeared in front of him. He looked up to see Logan sitting himself in the chair opposite him, another plate in his hand with sandwiches and nibble foods on it. A flask came out of his jacket, and he poured hot coffee into the cup that had been on his desk since this morning.

Scott took the cup and grinned his thanks. Logan slouched comfortably in the chair and ate quietly. Resisting the urge to wrap himself around the man like he had so often with Jean, he finished up his conversation, a contented smile on his face.


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks a lot to Smexyfranz89, and Amonshy for their reviews!_

* * *

His mind was searching. It rarely happened anymore, but when it did it was painful. He could no longer just let his mind look for Jean though. That woman would happily take advantage of his open mind.

He whimpered as a bolt of pain struck through him, sitting up quickly and holding his head. He began placing his barriers up firmly, it was difficult to concentrate, and she was there. He staggered to his feet and began to move. He had to move. She was there.

Two hands grabbed his arms and Scott was shoved onto Logan's bed. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and took a deep breath. He thought of a gap; a large blank gap with a soft green calm one side and the whirling vortex of life, of people, of Jean on the other side. Pain was red, he decided. There was a lot of red in the world. He was free from permanent red, but he found the other colours to be troublesome as well.

He'd miss colour, from the black blue of storm clouds to the regular brown of life. Brown, which cropped up everywhere. Brown was life; ironic then, that Magneto was maroon, both red and brown. Pained life, maybe. Now, at least it was. He seemed to distrust everyone now that Xavier was dead.

Logan could be many colours, but hazel was probably best. Scott pressed his body closer to Logan, allowing the man to lay down with him. The lights were out anyway, they had gone to bed a few hours ago, Logan had been asleep. Scott's mind had finally stopped jumping from the location of Magneto's next attack to the class notes he was going to have to find in his and Jean's old room.

The pain felt distant when he focussed on other things though. If he thought about anyone but Jean, she couldn't so easily get to him. Hazel; that worked well. Brown; because life definitely existed in Logan, he was brimming with it. Yellow; a bright colour that hinted through the brown. Logan got on with life, but he still inspired hope in Scott.

The large, warm hand that rubbed over his back was soothing. Scott burrowed his face into Logan's neck and breathed in his musky scent. Jean was going. She was angry, possessive. But Logan was warm. He was here. Scott hummed contentedly. The hand was wandering further down his back, but he couldn't object.

"Go to sleep, kid." Muttered the man softly. He didn't sound terribly awake himself.

"Fuck off." He breathed in response. His flaring emotions had been quelled, his panic removed as his mind settled. A chuckle rumbled through the chest he lay against, but Scott paid it no heed. He slept, safe beside the firm body.

* * *

Scott looked irritated. The kid still didn't seem to realise how obvious his emotions were now the physical barrier of his glasses had been removed.

Bobby was making a fuss. He was still upset that Marie had felt she needed to go receive the cure, and he wanted her back. With his fiery friend now tagging along with Magneto, the teenager only had Kitty to talk to. Kitty, who was wracked with guilt because she felt she had betrayed her friend in getting so close to Bobby. The two were barely talking.

He was complaining to Scott again, begging that they be allowed to go do _something_ – anything. Scott had woken in the night, holding his head and crying with pain. He'd spent the morning speaking with the new mutant they had found. He had then holed himself up in his office until dinner, having missed lunch _again_.

Logan had pulled him out for the pasta bake their school chef had made, when Bobby had come over. Scott had stopped eating again. This was an uphill battle.

"Hey, Iceman? Fuck off till later, yeah?"

"But-"

"Really... We'll let you know when there is something to do."

Bobby frowned and went back to his own table. Scott frowned as well.

"No need to be rude... and don't swear in school."

He snorted, but went back to eating.

* * *

It was the next morning as they were getting up that Scott mentioned something. Logan had made the kid sleep in the same bed as him again, not for any real reason other than fucking liked sleeping next to the man. He took away the nightmares, and Logan was not worried about slicing him open. Scott may have been more vulnerable without his optic blasts, but he had other things going for him, including this strange ability to banish Logan's problems at night. Scott was never truly vulnerable as he seemed to have wormed his way into the protective area of his instincts.

Logan was definitely attracted to him though. If they had been somewhere other than a school he planned to stick around in for a while, somewhere he did not currently hold a job, the Logan would have pushed the man to the floor and ravished him long ago; with or without Jean. They were both stupidly attractive, but he would never put Jeannie on the ground and expect her to hold his weight.

His mind rebelled against his ideas of just friendship with Scott though, as the kid headed into the bathroom, leaving Logan with a view of his pyjama bottoms clinging awkwardly to his arse, most likely from when he had shifted about in the night.

He imagined what Slim would look like if he did push him to the floor, his blue eyes looking up through slits at him as he moaned. He shoved a hand down his boxers and started palming himself. He'd have time; Scott took ages to get ready. He imagined the young man with just that tight white t-shirt on.

"Logan?" He jolted, letting go of himself and sitting up.

"What?" the kid was still in the bathroom, he'd still have enough time...

"I have an idea. For what to do about Magneto, I mean."

"Yeah?" Hopefully that wasn't too breathy. His hand was back in his boxers. The kid would be on his front, his pale arse up in the air.

"Well, James said he is planning something near that clinic by the Golden Gate Bridge."

He made what he hoped was an affirmative noise as he took a firm grip and moved his hand. He'd cover that warm body with his own; his hips would be grinding down. He licked his lips.

"Apparently," His voice hitched lightly, "Jean is with them."

"Oh." That was definitely more breathy than it was meant to be. His thumb moved over his slit. Scott would make that delicious little whimper in the back of his throat he sometimes made while Logan ran his hands over those long thighs.

"So, that is where we will be going. I've told Warren to keep an eye..."

Logan wasn't listening any more, he could hear that Scott was now talking around his toothbrush, but he didn't care about the words. That voice, so in control. Confident, determined, hot as hell.

He spread his legs a little wider and raised his hips. He wondered if Scott would be talkative after getting off. But, as often as Logan had come up here when he had a free period in the school day; Scott seemed to spend his time in his office. He had never come in and seen Scott under the covers, touching himself. He tried to imagine Scott touching himself, as he often imagined and let out a soft groan as he came.

Scott was still in the bathroom, so Logan shifted lazily and positioned himself to see when the kid came out, so he could go for a shower.

He emerged looking as pristine as ever.

"See you in an hour in my office then. We can all decide what we're going to do." And he was gone.

Logan kicked off his covers, rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He tugged of his boxers as he glanced at the clock. 8:30 am. He had an hour.

* * *

Alcatraz Island; this is where they would go. Scott suppressed the shudder of anticipation he felt as he looked over at Bobby. The young man looked serious, but he was bubbling underneath his skin. They could _finally_ do something. Kitty was more nervous. She kept glancing at James, who was here to share the information he had overheard. Scott didn't think she understood why the man refused to fight. She seemed to view his refusal as a belief that they would fail. He would have to explain later to her that not everyone was a fighter.

'Ro was calm. Scott focussed on her for a moment. She didn't just look calm, she really was. He supposed it was because they had a plan. She always did like a plan, even though this one was very vague due to the unpredictable nature of what they would be doing.

Warren was on his laptop. He had told them that the cure originated from a boy, but this was where the plan split into different paths. If the cure was simply extracted from the boy, for example in his blood, they were to destroy what had been extracted, the equipment used and to try and convince the boy to leave, if he was there.

If the cure was created by the boy, then all records of it were to be destroyed and again, they were to convince him to leave with them.

If the boy was physically the cure, then he would have to leave. It would be him Magneto was after anyway. Warren had never actually met the boy, and Scott did not know what he looked like. He imagined him as pale colour, maybe yellow or white; innocent and undeserving of trouble, at least in regards to the fact that Magneto probably wanted him dead. He would be streaked with grey though, because nobody was perfect.

Logan was leaning against a wall, a blank look on his face. He seemed calm, prepared to fight as he must for their plan to succeed. Scott knew Logan planned to stick as close to his side as possible. He seemed to have forgotten the young math teacher was once the Leader of the X-Men. No, he _was_ the Leader, just... slightly out of commission at the minute. He knew Logan was worried about how he could fight, what he could do. However, he was their best defence against Jean, but then he would also be protected by her. Jean had loved him and the Phoenix was possessive.

Anyone aiming to maim or kill him would be torn to dust by the woman he once loved, rather the remnants of her. He knew she would release his powers again if he was in need of them; he planned to bring his visor, just in case.

Still, Logan's concern was unnecessary. The man would have to run off and fight on his own, Scott found him highly distracting anyway. Especially in motion, the fluid movements Scott had watched in the Danger Room followed him into his dreams. It'd be easier to fight away from the man.


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks to Melissen, logan and Aslan is love for their reviews. =D_

* * *

The plan was in place, there was nothing left that they really could do. Scott had set up a simulation in the danger room; the _mission almost impossible_, as the kids had started calling it when they thought he couldn't hear. To be fair to them though, they still threw themselves into it whole heartedly.

He had arranged for Kitty and Bobby to leave and from working with Warren, he had an accurate layout of the pharmaceutical building. They knew where the labs were and where the boy was most likely to be found. They also had a few other areas fully drawn up so the two teenagers could do their best.

He was in bed now, even though it was early afternoon. They would be heading out in the evening, so he had gone for a rest before they left. Logan had insisted on going up with him. They were lay together on the too small bed, eyes shut but neither one asleep. Scott was still going over everything that could go wrong and Logan was probably worrying about the kids – Marie especially, as they still hadn't found out where she was.

He opened his eyes, and stared though the darkened room at Logan's face, at the strip of light that had escaped from the gap in the curtains to fall across his forehead. Magneto had moved the Golden Gate Bridge... had the man always been that powerful? Had he just been toning it down? He had been capable of moving their jet, but such a large bridge?

The man was bold, he wasn't the type to hide away what he could do, and he saw no need to do so. The day was a green blue colour. People were worried, he knew, sad and a little afraid; unavoidable emotions, especially for those who knew about Phoenix. He wondered if Jean was there... She probably wasn't. Her compassion had always been a defining feature.

He still didn't want to hurt her.

* * *

Scott kept muttering about colours. It was strange, but he seemed to have associated colours with different feelings. White – Innocent; Red – Pain; Brown – Life, this was an unusual one, but Logan could sort of understand his reasoning; Yellow – Hope; Green – Fear; Blue – Misery, this one the kid commented on a lot, though he apparently hoped their trip to San Francisco would solve this. He was certain there were other colours, but these were the only ones Scott had tried to explain to him. They were usually under his breath, not meant for anyone's ears, but Logan's hearing was better than most people's and he had asked. The young man had looked awkward when he was explaining, following it up with a claim that he wanted some way to remember the different colours when his world went back to red.

They were currently stood half way across the well known bridge. It was facing the wrong way though. It had been moved. Scott was whispering _green_ to himself, but his fear wasn't for himself. He was worried about the people they had brought. He was worried they would die, and he would fail them. The abnormal urge to hug the kid once again swept though him. He ignored it, shifting slightly as everyone took a deep breath.

Fear. He could smell it. The air was thick with it, but the adrenaline was strong as well. Fight or flight was an expected response, but hopefully everyone was riling up to fight. They began to move silently across the bridge. There would be reinforcements coming in boats, wooden crafts so Magneto could not manipulate them. Scott had worked hard with the police to ensure this. He knew the professor may have had an objection or two about bringing in people who were not involved in their fight to get killed, but it was most logical.

A young man by the name of Adrian would be elevating the occupants out of the boats. He couldn't get them more than seven feet up, but it would be enough. Their weapons were made of plastic and there was as little metal as possible.

They were being careful; to an extent... Logan unsheathed his claws and threw himself forwards.

* * *

Scott moved silently around the edge of the fray, knocking out those who tried to harm him. He did not currently have his mutation, and he couldn't willingly throw himself into the fight without it as he knew some of his friends would distract themselves trying to defend him.

He could see Jean stood a distance away, beside Magneto and a few others. He fought down his repulsion as he allowed his mind to seek out that of the woman he loved; he could not, however, stop the shudder as Phoenix responded.

Warmth flooded his head and he could feel himself starting to relax. He resisted the urge as he connected a spinning hook kick to the side of a woman's head who was hissing at him, her forked tongue fitted between her pointed teeth. Now was not the time for relaxing.

He caught a brief glimpse of Logan, claws out, roaring loudly and fighting with a menace akin to a true animal. It was both oddly beautiful and most disturbing. He hit his short punch into the solar plexus of a man who was barely more than a child then brought a back fist down into the temple.

Scott began to make his way over to the group. His knuckles hurt, his muscles were burning, but he could not deny the thrill he felt on what he was doing, regardless of his disgust at who was on the other end of his attacks.

He felt someone throw a kick at his head, and as he ducked his hands went to his temple. An automatic response, but a frustrating thing to deal with that he could not fight the way he wanted. He swept them over and knocked them out before hurrying along.

* * *

Logan spun and swiped though flesh. Blood flew and he sent a kick in the same direction. It was probably cold that he did not feel complete horror for those he was killing, that he _was_ even killing, instead of just leaving them unconscious. However, his claws were not made for being careful, and he was pumped with adrenaline. Those he combated against would have known what they were getting into with all of Magneto's talk of war.

He hoped the kids were doing what they had to. Kitty and Bobby had gone to find the cure kid. They had to make their way through the building which would not be a problem. He did hope the mystery boy did not cause them any problems in leaving though. They needed to be well to convince Marie to return.

He stamped on a knee as he thrust his claws into the next foe's shoulder. There would be a signal once the children had escaped; something to let them know it was time to leave. It had been a total consensus amongst the teachers that they should leave as soon as they could, to do as little damage; even Logan had found himself unable to argue to wipe them all out.

He knew Magneto was charismatic and there were a great number of desperate mutants. They had been marginalised so completely by some people that some felt they _had_ to fight. He swiped his claws through the air again, allowing them to slice through another person. People wanted action, he knew, but he did wonder if this was what they wanted though. To be struggling against those they should be united with...

He shouldered into someone who was in a fierce struggle with one of their kids. He hoped Scott was alright. He was perfectly aware that the kid could fight; the proof was in how many times he had landed on his ass in the danger room, regardless of his obvious advantage in weight, strength and endurance. He wanted to go look for him, but it would be pointless in such a crowd. He was in the middle and Scott had planned to be away from the thick of it.


	11. Chapter 11

_Thanks so much to Aslan is love, melissen, Darrelle, kittendragon, the naru-chan, Yokiryuu, kiss316 and Tom Vorlost Riddle for you reviews. I truly appreciate them._

* * *

Scott continued to work his way to Jean. Deflecting blows and jabbing fists, he made a path through the fighting mutants. Jean turned her head to watch him with blank eyes, her beautiful orange hair tumbling down her back. Orange, he decided as his roundhouse kick went into yet another too-young fighter, orange was a good colour for her: A mixture of red and yellow, of pain and hope.

Magneto had turned to watch him as well, a faint smile on his lips. Was his aggression that amusing? Or was it that he was here and fighting, as a human? He wondered briefly how Logan was. The man would have undoubtedly thrown himself into the fighting. Scott hoped he would remember that those they fought against were mostly disillusioned men and women who did not really deserve to be slaughtered. Many of them were horrifically young, some still of school age, no older than those he taught on a daily basis.

Just a few more yards, and maybe he could ask such questions for himself.

* * *

Marie stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the television set in front of her. She was in a small bar, waiting for the cure to come to the doctors near her. She been in and spoken to the receptionist. They would be getting it in a few days. She did not have very much money; it had taken all of what she'd saved up to get here, near her parents' home. She hadn't gone to see the yet though: she was still a disappointment. She had enough to sleep in a small hotel room and to get some food, from an overly friendly man who had wanted a whole lot more than a smile off her, and had some away exhausted, weak and penniless.

She wanted their warm embrace now though, a soft smile and a gentle voice to tell her not to worry as she watched the news. Mutants had attacked the pharmaceutical building where the cure was being created. She knew it was Magneto. The man was terrifying and had haunted her sleep for a long time after he tried to use her powers. The professor had always been so sure he was no real threat to them. Merely to humans... she guessed it didn't count if they were defending the humans though.

Not that she could be included in that statement. Instead of fighting, instead of using her ability to help she was here. She was hiding as close as she could to the last place she had called home before the professor had accepted her into his school. His school that was a family... a tear slipped from her eye, her skin would be going blotchy but she didn't care. These people didn't matter, strangers whom she had never really spoken with. She missed Bobby, and Kitty. She missed Logan, who had saved her before; she missed Mr. Summers, who had been struggling with his life. He had lost his mutation. She had always thought it would be such an annoying one to have, unable to see things unless you wore glasses; how did he cope with being in the water, or at night. He had lost his mutation and had lost his sense of identity with it, if what she had managed to squeeze out of Logan was true.

Should she really be so far from her real home, trying to remove something that defined her?

* * *

Logan's eyes swept around him, there were fewer people fighting now. They had either been taken down, or had left to avoid being taken down. Adrenaline burned through his veins, a grin working its way onto his lips. He could see another wave of fighters hurrying towards them, but it would be no bother.

He glanced over to Magneto, to Phoenix and to that John kid with a flame. One was bouncing around impatiently, but the other two were stood tall and confident, their eyes fixed on a figure that was slowly moving towards them.

Was that Scott? He wasn't sure he liked that idea, but he had the next group of children flying at him. He took a deep breath, trying to remember if Scott had a colour for strength. He couldn't but he let out a yell all the same, sweeping his claws downwards at a young man with bad skin problems.

Maybe the kid wasn't up there to fight, maybe just for the chance to talk with them. Not that it was likely he fought his way up there for a chat, but at least this option did not result in immediate death.

He growled as someone tore into his back, the pain sharp, but brief. He spun and jabbed his claws forward. A quick glance up and he saw the kid did seem to be trying to talk with them. He felt a growing sense of frustration at the lack of understanding, at the over confidence and of how _sure_ she was that Scott would be hers.

He felt a surge of anger that was purely his own at the thought that she would try take Scott back. She had left him to his grief. It had been Loan who had pulled him back from that, Logan who held him at night, who made sure he ate, it was Logan who made the kids fuck off when Scott was too exhausted to deal with them and too stubborn to admit it. Scott was Logan's and some red-headed freak was not going to change that.

He was certain Scott felt the same. It was Scott who calmed Logan when his anger got the better of him, it was Scott who settled down beside him on an evening; be it to read or simply sit in silence. It was Scott to whom Logan could speak to about any trouble and Scott that had taken his nightmares away. They belonged to each other. She was too late.

He allowed a smug smirk to crawl onto his face and he deflected another attack. He had no doubts about Scott's loyalties and he hoped that Magneto would stop their discussion over whatever dissolving into petty squabbles.

He felt a sharp jab in his mind, as though a sign from somewhere that he had to be moving back, that they were done. He threw a kick and began to move. Glancing about as he did so to check if everyone else was.

* * *

She was as stunning as ever, even dressed in more red. He still didn't feel that she ought to wear the colour of his torment, but he could acknowledge it looked good on her.

Magneto stood a pace behind her, no longer truly looking like the leader Scott had always known him to be. The death of the professor had clearly hit him hard. He first looked this man in the eyes. Magneto, except not really. He was missing something... this man was Erik, and he looked to be grieving. In the back of his mind, he could feel the pain. So similar and yet so different to the grief he had felt at the death of Charles Xavier. Closer to the pain he had felt when Jean... he cut that though off. No one wanted to think about their father like that really, especially not when it had ended so tragically.

Erik gave him a nod, before his eyes drifted back to the surprisingly aggressive figure of Jean Grey, of Phoenix, as she called herself now.

"Scott," She whispered, but actual voice carrying across the small distance between them.

"_What?_" He was unable to make his voice work, but he knew he'd thrown that at her.

"_My love. You've drifted so far. Come back to me now._" Her large eyes stared at him, and for a brief moment, he was taken in by them.

"_I ..._" Thoughts of Logan suddenly flooded his mind. The way Logan held him at night, the way he was always there; quiet when his head hurt and quietly muttering about different happenings in the school when the place seemed too empty. Logan was the one whom had pressed a few too many kisses and held him a little too closely for Scott to consider him just a friend anymore. "_I can't. You were gone too long._"

"_No. You are mine._" Her beauty seemed to melt her way. Her face seemed almost haggard; her eyes red rimmed, as though she had cried for all the pain she had cause; dark shadows under those once beautiful and an ugly scowl directed at him.

"_If I do not belong to myself, if that is not acceptable for you, then I am Logan's. I am part of his pack, and while he has not vocally confirmed it, I am just as sure I am his love. I did love a part of you. I considered you my soul mate, but a soul cannot exist without a heart and like this, I can't see on in you._"

He felt exhausted and he felt cruel when he saw her flinch. He noticed Erik's eyes shut, and pained look fall upon his features. Was she projecting this conversation around them? An argument about who he belonged to... he hadn't thought she would want people to know. A small thought in the back of his mind told him it wasn't her projecting. It was the same voice that insisted this woman had once loved him, before her mutation had lost its barriers and eaten away at who she was.

He felt a burst of joy off to his side and followed it with his eyes. There were the kids, running though the violent crowds with a small boy by their side, dressed appropriately in white. They'd let off a flare in a minute, but for now he knew they would most likely succeed.

"Jean," he whispered, having found a voice, "Let me see you."

The woman frowned, her powers starting to whip a wind up around them. He never took his eyes away from hers.

"Jean, please..."

He stepped forward, feeling his skin starting to grate again, feeling it pull away like dust. He stepped closer still and held out a hand.

"Jean..." That voice in his mind had been her, he was sure. He kept eye contact and burrowed his way into the Phoenix's mind.

"Where are you?" There... it was almost a soft pink glow. Pink, a combination of white and red. Innocence lost in pain.

"Scott..." she softly responded. Her eyes broke away from his, to something over his shoulder. However, he could not look away. This was his girl. He may have found another amidst his pain, but she held a place in his heart. "I'm sorry." She breathed.

He frowned. What? A thick sheet of metal flew past him, embedding itself into her body. He yelped. Not again. He caught her as she fell.

"I couldn't... let... her. Scott, so sorry."

"Jean... No..." his voice hitched as he watched the red life pour out of her. "No..."

"Love you..." Little more than a breath, but reinforced with a brush of her mind. She drew in wet breaths that seemed to rattle through her. He felt tears falling, but was unable to wipe them away. As she twitched he threw his mind out. He needed Logan, his source of comfort and strength.

He didn't have her dying in his mind this time, their bond having been broken months ago, but feeling her die in his arms was no less painful.


	12. Chapter 12

Scott sat beside Storm as she spoke to the gathering. It was not Charles Xavier she was saying goodbye to this time, it was Jean Grey.

Her words flowed beautifully over her descriptions of Jean; of her strengths, her hopes... 'Ro also covered Jean's flaws though. It was not done in any great detail, it was not done to demean her memory; it was done to help the children realise that all people were flawed in some way, and that they could overcome it.

She finished with an idea that they had heard the Professor express at the Grey's home; that it is better to have control over you mutations, rather than let them control you. It was difficult to accept that as Jean's power had grown, she had lost herself in it, but there was no way for Scott to deny the truth of it.

The Phoenix had been almost childlike in her emotions; a young girl who was possessive, angry and in many ways frightened. She had been scared of being alone, and she had been scared that people did not like her. However, she had been arrogant and something of a show off; like a child who discovers they are better at cartwheeling than anyone else, and therefore insists on doing so all the time.

He wished he had known her when they were younger, though the large age gap between them may have made that a problem. He wished Xavier and Magneto had found her before she had been fourteen and confident in what she could do. It sounded cruel, but Scott wished she had been found while she was still struggling, as so many mutants did. The professor could have helped her advance emotionally, to match the power she had.

He stared at the marker, trying to bury his regrets. They had no place with him right now; he was here to say goodbye to Jean; the woman he loved; his fiancée. It was easier than it had been the first time around. It seemed harsh to think it, but it did not hurt so much. He did not feel as though he had been dropped in the middle of the ocean and left alone.

Now, he was so aware of Logan; slouching about in the background, but still here, still sharing his room... still sharing his bed. He flushed slightly, averting his eyes as he remembered lying on top of that strong body, unwilling to look at the reminder of Jean as the memory of that beautiful body embracing him filled his mind.

He would happily sleep with Logan every night, if fact he hoped he could continue to; that as his nightmares died down and he started sleeping through the night, that Logan would not decide to move as far back as his own bed. It was strange, but Scott felt he needed the man near to him.

'Ro had clearly finished speaking, as people were starting to stand up and move about. There were no desperate sobs this time, no one but him remaining in their seat, as though the second time was easier for everyone else too. As though it was something of a relief that she had died this time; as opposed to the horror they had had the first time around.

It was understandable. Jean, the Jean he had known and loved, would not have wanted to do anything she had done in her second lease of life. She would not want to kill the professor, or to harm anyone, even armed men. The Jean she had been when in control of her mutation would have done her best to stop the fighting, not watch it occur with a mild curiosity.

"How you doing?"

Logan dropped into the seat beside him, and Scott turned his face towards him.

"I'm tired."

The man nodded, and slouched down in his seat, staring blankly ahead of him.

"And... I have a headache."

At this, Logan turned his head and raised his brow.

"Bad?"

"Kinda. I've had it since we got back from Alcatraz, and it won't go away properly."

Logan frowned, but didn't say anything. Scott smiled slightly, and sighed.

"Wanna head to a bar?"

"Yeah."

* * *

The loud controversy over mutants seemed to have bled even into the sketchier drinking establishments. Scott stood at the bar, waiting to order as he listened to a group of men bicker.

"I'm not like you; I'm not a mutie lover."

"It's not that I love them in particular, it's just that these things tend to result in harsh measures."

"Unlike either of you, apparently, I do like them. I used to dream I could fly was I was a kid; it was my favourite type of dream. How amazing would it be to actually be able to? Did you see the footage of the guy who jumped out of that Worthington Building, he had _angel wings_! How brilliant would that be?"

"If it's so brilliant, why was he there in the first place?"

"Because he is a freak."

"No, because he is made to feel like one!"

The conversation continued, but Scott moved off with their drinks.

"Everyone seems interested in what is going on."

"You're telling me, bub? With you over there, I had to listen to these women chatter about that _poor mutant child_ from down the road, and how they had only just met him because his parents had been keeping him locked up."

"It is an uproar. I hope it ends well for us."

Logan nodded, and took a mouthful of his beer. Scott sighed, rubbing at his temple. The headache he had had just would not go away; it was painful, but it seemed less... troublesome at night. He raised his eyes to look at his friend again, noting the man was watching the television. His gaze drawn to the way the man's lips were wrapped around the bottle.

It was a good look for him.

The thought had flashed through his mind in an instant, followed by an idea of what else those lips could wrap around. His eyes widened as Logan smirked at him, and licked the rim of the bottle; he hollowed his cheeks as he sucked in, though the bottle was not tipped for him to drink anything. Scott had been sure the gruff man had been looking the other way; he can't have seen where the young man was looking... But apparently he had, and he'd decided to mock him for it.

The idea of pay back briefly crossed his mind, of moaning as he took a drink, of pulling that face Jean had always told him was surprisingly smouldering... but he dismissed it. He would like to get closer of Logan, he certainly wouldn't mind kissing the man, but to start this while they were out for a drink, after they had buried Jean's body... it would be foolish.

He could go without a kiss, as he still got to curl up beside the man in bed at night.

* * *

_I am so sorry... I know I said last time I wouldn't take so long, and then I took 14 months to put another chapter up. I have gone back and tried to tidy up the earlier chapters. Hopefully it is all ok now._

_Thanks to melissen, Yawwii, Loomps, Black Shaphirax, neika1995901, phantomwalker, cammiee00, and a guest for the reviews :)_


	13. Chapter 13

The air was cool the next morning and it seemed almost fitting. Scott did not know what he was going to do with his life now. The problems with Jean had been resolved; perhaps not as they would be in an ideal world, but sorted. He and 'Ro were getting the school back together, sorting out staffing arrangements and still visiting prospective students.

He also spent time playing chess with Erik Lehnsherr. He was just 'Erik' now, not Magneto; apparently while Scott had been trying to get through to Jean, Logan had gotten the aging man with the cure. Now, he was just a lonely old man without his old chess partner. He did not play as well as the professor had, but Scott had gone to see him a few weeks ago; he had been sat in front of a chess set, one pawn moved but everything else in place, waiting for Charles to make a move he no longer could.

He visited that park twice a week now. Erik now greeted him, though at first he had frowned, as though confused that someone would dare take his friend's seat. He would be heading there later on in the day, but Scott first had to detach himself from Logan, get showered and dressed, and then go teach his class. He was not keen to move though, it was warm and comfortable in his position on his side with the older mutant wrapped around him from behind.

He shifted around to see the clock that sat on Logan's bedside table; surely he could have another five minutes... he wriggling brought him in contact with something he had not expected, but possibly should have. Having pushed Logan onto his back and sat up, Scott could feel a firm heat pushing against his lower back from where he sat in between the other man's legs.

He froze, not entirely sure what the done thing was for this situation, but the gruff man pulled him back down fastening his arms around Scott again. He could feel the man's morning erection more fully in this awkward position, so he began to move, trying to escape the solid arms that held him.

"Logan. _Logan!_" he hissed, feeling his own body start to react. "Wake up."

Logan did not wake though, simply rolled them both over onto their sides. His hips were moving rhythmically and though he rather liked the feel, Scott began trying to get away again.

"Wake up! Logan, I have class."

"Mmm, right." The man mumbled before pressing his face forward and sleepily mouthed at Scott's should. The young man bit back a moan; he hadn't had anyone touch him like this in some time... But now was not the moment.

"Logan. Let go!" he snapped, feeling his skin flush. He didn't want to raise his voice too much and risk anyone else hearing them.

"Huh? Slim?"

"I need to get up and take a shower. I'll be late..."

"Right." Logan let go and rolled over, settling back down.

"Don't you have a class this morning?"

"Nah. Not till after lunch."

"Right."

Scott grabbed his towel and hurried into the bathroom, keeping his back to his bed mate.

* * *

Logan was in the bed, half awake when he watched Scott scurry out the bathroom in just a towel; he gave an embarrassed mutter about forgetting his clothes, pulled his clothing on in less than two minutes, and flew out the door.

A glance at the clock told Logan that even if the boy ran, he would still be late for his class. He snickered slightly, swinging his legs out the bed and heading into the bathroom for a piss. There was a strong smell of sex in the room, and Logan let out a loud laugh as he guessed the reason his boy scout was in such a rush.

His day was not going to be particularly busy. He would probably go wander for a bit, checking on the students who weren't in classes, before having lunch then teaching. He did plan to ring Beast at some point. Scott was having bad headaches all the time, and though he refused to admit it, it was getting to be a problem.

Logan was going to ring Hank and ask him to check the kid out; as the stubborn bastard wouldn't do it for himself... he was going to have to bring up getting a full time doctor or at least a nurse into the school. Hank now had a lot of work to do with the United Nations, so he could keep visiting to check on colds and bumped heads... and Jean wasn't going to come back.

He'd probably get Rogue to type them up for him and send them in an email; Slim preferred to have everything written down.

He'd finished his day off with dinner, then either take one of the bikes out for a ride, or rub one off in their room... maybe he'd go rub one off in nature... maybe he could convince Scott to come with him.

He smirked and headed out for the day.

* * *

_Scott's shower time is included in the version of this on AO3, but I didn't want to have problems with the rating._


	14. Chapter 14

Erik watched as his regular visitor came and sat opposite him. The young man pushed his floppy brown hair out of his eyes and gave the older man a slight smile.

"Good morning, Erik."

"Good morning, Scott Summers. I see you have decided to come back yet again."

"The professor worried about you being on your own all the time. It didn't seem right to just forget about you now that..."

The young man trailed off, his eyes reflecting some of the pain that Erik felt. Worrying about him being alone... Yes, that sounded like Charles; utterly unable to ignore anyone in need. It was why he had had a mansion full of poor mutants. It was why he had been so wonderful.

Before him though, sat a mutant who was also in pain. A mutant who had had his ability blocked through no choice of his own, if what he had managed to get out of the young man was true. He had not had his blocked due to the research of humans though, but thanks to a mutant.

Thanks to Jean Grey... He wondered how exactly it had happened. He wondered if it was telepathy or telekinesis that had done the damage. He wondered if it could be reversed.

His own 'cure' was starting to breakdown in his body. He focussed his attention to one of the chess pieces, making it twitch slightly. It was foolish, perhaps, to do so in front the leader of the X-Men, but he almost wanted the young man to see; he wanted Scott to take comfort that things were not always permanent if you put effort in to change them.

Some days, Erik tried to see Alex Summers in the young man before him. Charles had informed him that this was the boy's son. He knew Mystique held a certain fondness for him as well, not only for being Alex's son, with whom she had gotten along well with, but also because Charles had adopted him. Being Charles' sister, she viewed Scott Summers as a nephew. She was a strong woman though, and had not let her familial bonds get in the way of their goal.

He rather hoped her 'cure' was wearing off; she had been quite beautiful.

"Black or white?" Asked the young man, his blue eyes seeking Erik's out. He sighed, feeling exhausted.

"Does it matter?"

"Do you not want to play?"

"Maybe I just want to talk to you today."

"Oh..." He looked confused, but politely laced his fingers on the tables and looked at the older man, his head tilted slightly. It was so reminiscent of Charles that Erik felt another pang.

"There are a few things I would like clearing up, if you don't mind."

"I'll answer what I can." He assured him.

"Ms. Grey had a connection with you."

"She did."

"Charles tried to close it off. It made her angry."

"We thought she had died." His face crumpled. "I was having problems with... I could hear her. The professor tried to help, but it didn't really work. He said it was like I had a hole in my mind that any passing telepath could access... I just know it hurt."

"You had a bond..." He used to have one with Charles. For years, they had been connected. However, he had told his friend to remove it back when the man had started getting more pupils. He had briefly felt the pain the request had caused Charles, but he had done as Erik had demanded.

"Yes."

"Yet you are clearly functioning now."

"Logan helped."

"The Wolverine?" He pulled a face, trying to imagine how such a barbarian could assist in something as delicate as telepathy.

"Yes."

"How?"

"I... He..." The young man was flushed brightly.

"Ah, sex." A great healer, apparently.

"No. I don't- We haven't... He just... helps." The boy looked imploringly at him, but Erik did not really understand what he was getting at.

"Oh, watch out!" Scott jumped to his feet and threw himself in the way of Erik. There was a young woman stood before them, snarling at Erik; she had a gun in her hand and had fired it. Automatically, Erik raised his hand and crushed the weapon.

Scott fell to the ground with a yelp.

Erik froze, staring in shock at the young man. They were not friends; he had, inadvertently caused the death of the boy's adopted father. Why would he jump in front of a bullet for him? Surely Charles hadn't drilled a hero complex quite that deep...

It took him a moment to realise the bullet had only skimmed the boy's arm; that Scott was clutching at his eyes. Curious... It seemed the blocks in their mutations had lifted at the same time. He raised his eyes to the woman who was still angrily growling at him.

"You killed him. He was a good man and you are the reason he is dead."

"Was he a human soldier trying to kill us, my dear?" Erik asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"You're a monster. It's no less than you deserve."

"Don't... hurt..." Gasped Scott. "Erik, please don't- Ah..."

"No? Just this once then." He supposed he did owe the boy, so he used the metal to fasten her hands behind her back and attach them to the metal fence.

That done, Erik crouched down beside the boy. He ought to just leave him here, but he couldn't just leave the boy; he had meant too much to Charles. He helped Scott to his feet and wrapped the boy's hand around the crook of his elbow.

"We'd best be leaving now. Do you have something to press down on that scratch? Excellent." And he walked off to where Scott's Mazda RX-8 was parked. He helped the boy into the passenger seat before sitting down himself and turning the engine on.

"Hmm... How do we change the channel, dear boy? I can't listen to this."

Scott reached a hand over and after feeling around for a moment, he jabbed a button a couple of times. Erik smiled as classical music filled the car, and he headed off to Xavier's School.


	15. Chapter 15

_Here is the next bit. Thanks to narutonarutolove for the review._

* * *

Logan was checking the grounds late in the evening with Beast. The moon was bright, not quite a full moon, but getting there. He could see a slew of stars, the lights of the nearby town too far away to block the sky. He felt very at rest at such times.

Hank was a friendly man and he was happily chatting to gruff man about his new job as the U.S ambassador to the United Nations. Logan actually agreed with the teachers in the school that it was having a positive impact.

They had had letters from people who were now curious about mutants. They had seen Hank on the television and in the newspaper; it was more than slightly obvious he was not a regular human and yet he was such a likeable person that they were hesitant to believe all the bad press about mutants.

Scott had had been commenting that many people had written, emailed or phoned the school. Not people interested in getting help with their mutations, but people who wanted information on mutants that was not filled with the hatred that was contained in most of the information that the public had access to.

Slim had decided to do a type of gathering. They were going to have some kind of meeting with the public, though Logan did not know if it would be a proper type where the teachers sat at the front and answered questions or if it would be a 'mingle and chat' type gathering.

The roar of an engine made Logan grin; Cyclops was back. The young man kept visiting the Professor's old friend... though Logan had once or twice wondered if they had been just friends; then he usually decided not to think about it. Regardless, Scott still went to see Magneto, claiming it was unkind to leave someone so entirely alone.

The car pulled up in front of the mansion rather than pulling around and into the garage. Logan frowned and jogged over, Hank behind him, easily keeping up. It was Erik Lehnsherr that climbed out of the driving seat. He did not cower from the two men running at him, rather frowned slightly at them before moving around to the other side, opening the door and crouching down.

Logan had to slam his hands on the side of the car to slow himself down before he hurried around the other side to see the passenger seat. Scott was slumped in the seat, his seat belt holding him in position now the door was open.

"What happened?" He snarled at the old man.

"Humans, of course." Sneered Erik, running a hand gently though Scott's hair. Slim claimed he had lost a large portion of his aggression when Charles had died; it seemed rather evidence now. "A bullet grazed his arm. His mutation has returned."

Despite the anger he felt when hearing someone had shot Scott, Logan felt a strong sense of relief. His mutation was back? That would clear up a lot of worries about X-Men missions for the kid as he would be able to return to them. Maybe it would help return his confidence as well.

Logan reached into the car, unbuckling the kid and lifting him out. He had to admit he did enjoy the weight in his arms; it was almost reassuring. Brushing a kiss across his forehead, Logan carried the kid inside. He heard the car doors slam shut and the lock click in place. There were two sets of footsteps behind him.

They headed straight into the basement, down to the infirmary.

Hank was as quick and efficient as ever; he quickly snipped off Scott's upper clothing and began to clean the wound.

"Logan," he called as he dabbed carefully around the edges of it, "please go and find Scott's glasses. I expect he will want them when he wakes up."

Logan stood and stared for a while longer, before nodding his head. Erik turned and followed him out.

The two men walked silently together. Logan was not sure if he ought to offer the other man a room or demand he leave immediately. They headed up to Logan's room, where he had Scott's glasses stored in his top drawer. Erik stood by the door and peered in.

"Somehow," he spoke softly, "I expected the boy Charles adopted to have larger rooms; more extravagant."

"He doesn't need 'em. We share cos it helps keep nightmares away."

"He is a good man. I see so much of Charles in him..." The pain in Erik's face made him look even older than he was; exhausted as though he had the world's weight resting on his shoulders.

"Really?" Logan had never really thought about it. Scott had always been his own self, as had Chuck. "I thought you two were enemies anyway."

Logan was aware the two men had been friends, but it surely could not have lasted too long with such opposite views.

"No. Never enemies. I could never hate Charles. We met as young men and gathered other young mutants to our side."

Logan exited the room, glasses in his pocket. Erik followed.

"One of those young men was Alex Summers. He was a young man we collected from prison. He was Scott's father. We had long since taken our separate paths when Alex died, but I was sad to hear of it."

"You knew his father." Logan said in a blank voice. This conversation was getting odd. He had expected the old man to keep his silence, but perhaps with so much going on he needed to speak.

"Yes. I heard he died in a plane accident. It was not until about twelve or thirteen years ago I ever thought about Alex's son though. Mystique found out Charles had adopted the boy, and she wanted to know all she could about him."

"Why the fuck would she care?"

"She was Charles' sister."

"What?" that was hard to imagine. Mystique did not look anywhere near old enough to be related to Xavier.

"Adopted, but there really only was a few years between them." His face must have shown his confusion because Erik chuckled. "Her mutation causes her cells to age very slowly."

He grunted and entered the lift, Erik still beside him. Silence settled over the two men again. Logan wondered if the old man found it difficult to be here. He wondered if Erik had been in love with Charles when they were younger.

He couldn't imagine finding someone you truly love and not fighting for them tooth and nail.

His mind drifted to Scott. His feelings for the young teacher were definitely more than friendship, but he had a suspicion they were more than just lust as well. He was experiencing a strange desire to keep Scott cuddled up and looked after.

It was a shame he knew the young man would never agree to be mother henned like that. He was a teacher, now a headmaster and he was the field leader of the X-Men. Logan planned to go after him in full force now though.

He knew what he wanted, and he was going to go for it. While he waited for Scott to awaken though, he would get the glasses to Hank and go stick Erik in Charles' old rooms.


	16. Chapter 16

_We definitely hit the M rating in here. The full thing in posted on AO3_

* * *

Scott was very quiet over the next few days. His mutation had returned, meaning that he had to wear his glasses again. In his spare time, the kid spent a great deal of time of the phone with Hank, who was in Washington as part of his ambassadorial duties; the blue man was dying to come down at check out Slim. He had tried to get them to keep Magneto there as well. It was something to do with the way both their mutation, though stemmed through different methods, had re-emerged at the same time.

Logan couldn't care less. He just wanted to know the kid was alright. Scott spent every night in his bed now, not even pretending to try spending the night in the twin bed just a couple of feet away. Logan was managing though. He had fallen asleep several times with Scott on top of him, but he had not had any nightmares. He hadn't so much as scratched the other man.

Life was settling back into routine in some ways, for example the classes were going without any major interruptions, the teachers were happy enough to continue. They had even had a few new teachers put applications in for if they were ever looking for new hires, which filled many of them, 'Ro in particular with hope.

She went on about the new age of man as the professor had always dreamt of it; about how people were aware that they were a mutant school and they were applying to jobs here anyway.

They had had some applications from parents for their children to attend the school as well; the children were not all mutants, but some were related to mutants, and others just wanted their children to grow up away from the fear the mutants were monstrous freaks.

Even Logan could understand the advantages of that. He had always viewed the world through the ideal of 'leave things alone and you'll be left alone'; it wasn't perfect, but it worked well enough for him.

Now, he couldn't leave things alone. Scott would lie beside him at night at talk about the different problems, both in the school and in the world.

Logan found he didn't care.

He could happily lie beside the young teacher and let him talk about whatever he liked. He just grunted where necessary and offered comfort when he could.

It wasn't until Marie returned to the school that he made a real effort to make a difference though. The first thing she noticed was Scott's new ability to know things.

"It's like he knows what I wanna say before I get the words out." she confided.

"Mm." grunted Logan in agreement.

"It reminds me of a low level telepath. Ya know, like Simon?"

"Yeah." he answered, with absolutely no idea who Simon was.

"We talked about my parents." Marie looked at him with those large eyes that had seen too much. "He thinks I should go and talk to them."

"Will you?"

"Ah dunno. Maybe." she sighed and crossed her arms across her chest. "I wanna see them, not just talk to them on the phone."

"Then go see them."

"Can you come too?"

Logan frowned slightly, curious what her reasons for wanting company in such a private matter would be.

"They freaked out when we worked out it was my skin that sucked th- that did that to David. I don't wanna go alone."

He nodded. They were frightened of their own daughter... He would go with her; hopefully Scott would be alright for a few days. Well, probably a week, including time to sleep... maybe more; depending how long Marie wanted to stay.

It would be better if they drove though; flying wouldn't give her time to prepare.

* * *

Scott lay down in Logan's bed, all by himself. It still smelt strongly of the man, but it just wasn't the same.

Logan had headed down with Marie to go visit her parents nearly a week ago. Logan had estimated the drive would take over two days, maybe over three depending on how often they stopped. Scott was keen for them to get back.

He hoped it went well with the girl's parents. She had been through a lot and deserved some happiness. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Logan's pillow, shutting his eyes and trying to sleep.

His mind felt like it was searching for another's...

* * *

"Mr. Summers!" A soft, alto voice called across the gardens. "We're back."

Marie's bright smile accompanied her call, and Scott looked up to see the red figure hurrying over to him.

"How did it go?" he asked, eager to hear what had happened.

"They were happy to see me!" she said, dropping onto the grass beside him. "Ah am glad you let us go."

"Parents are important. I'm glad they wanted to see you."

"Dad cried. Well, mom did too, but dad doesn't cry at anything."

"He lost a daughter and she came back home. He had every reason to cry."

She nodded and grinned happily at him.

"Thanks for lending Logan to me, but you can have him back now."

"You didn't break him, did you?" he joked. She laughed, the noise filled with joy.

"Nah. No more than he already is."

Scott got to his feet as she headed off and went up to his room. He wondered for a moment if Logan was in the garage, or the kitchens... but he was sure the man would be in the bedroom.

"Good trip?" he asked when he opened the door.

"Yeah." Man, Scott had missed that gruff voice. He came all the way into the room, shutting the door behind him and wrapping his arms around the man's thick neck.

"Hey." he whispered.

"Hey, Slim." Logan returned the embrace.

Scott stood still for a moment, then he took a risk; he kissed Logan. Their lips met in a soft touch, hesitant due to Scott's fear of retaliation, but Logan simply pulled him closer and returned the kiss.

Scott took it as acceptance and pushed the man down onto the bed, straddling his hips. It felt like a bold move, but he didn't care. He sort of knew Logan wouldn't care either, and was proved right when the man rolled them over and rested his weight on Scott.

They focussed on kissing; the wet slide of their lips, the caress of a foreign tongue, the exchange of heated breaths... Scott wrapped his legs around Logan and moaned at the feel of the man exploring his mouth.

Scott ran his hands up his warm back, underneath the shirt and through the startling amount of back hair. He didn't care though; he didn't care that it was so different from the soft skin of Jean because it was Logan. He wanted Logan and that was who had him pinned to the mattress and was attacking his mouth.

"Fuck." hissed Scott as the large man moved down to feast on his neck, rough tongue interspacing the presses of teeth that Logan was treating him to. It made his blood surge. Hips writhing, Scott tried to push his head lower, not really knowing where he wanted it, but not wanting to slow down.

"Just wait a sec, Slim." Logan muttered, before ripping Scott's shirt off. He would have liked to object but the caveman style apparently did something for him, and Scott moaned again. The result had Logan licking his chest anyway, the combination of the cool patches where his skin was wet and the warm patches where he was dry made him feel almost dizzy... He wanted more...

While Scott couldn't rip Logan's shirt off in the same way, he did start pushing at it, trying to get the thing off. There was no reason that Logan should still be so covered. It took the man no time to figure out what Scott was after, so while he jumped up to tug his clothing off, Scott kicked off his remaining clothes.

Logan was hot.

Scott had already known this. He knew the man was well built, he slept beside him all the time, but seeing it was an entirely different matter. Arousal thrummed in his veins as he watched the muscles ripple on the other man.

He had never found this so attractive before. He had seen plenty of ripped men in his time; it had never been anything except slightly awkward, but now it made him whimper.

He sat up and wrapped his arms around Logan's waist, dipping his head to bite at those stomach muscles. Logan's heavy hands dropped to his shoulders, but he did nothing else.

Scott then slouched down further and took it into his mouth. Logan grunted, tightening his grip slightly, but not saying anything. It was an unfamiliar weight... Scott hadn't done this since he was a teenager, but it wasn't something he had forgotten.

He started by suckling on the head. It wasn't the most pleasant taste ever, but Logan let out a noise that was almost a whimper. Lapping a bit more at the top, Scott let his hands explore the rest, squeezing and caressing the hot flesh.

He slid a little further down, taking a moment to avoid gagging. He used his tongue again before gently pressing his teeth. Logan let out a roar, his hands gripping almost painfully at Scott's shoulders.

The younger man decided to get on with it. First he slid back to lick his lips, then he took Logan all the way down. His throat swallowed reflexively at the feel, but he hummed slightly and focussed on what he was doing instead.

Logan pulled him off though and pushed him back onto the bed, dropping down to cover him. Having the heavy, adamantium filled body pin him down made Scott moan. He bit down on the man's neck as those large, but oddly soft hands roamed his skin.

They quickly moved down to grope his arse, squeezing and massaging, with fingers drifting so close to his hole. He wanted more, and informed Logan loudly of this. The man chuckled and pulled Scott's hand cream out the bedside table.

He wanted to object, to demand proper lube, but he didn't own any and it was unlikely Logan had any either.

These thoughts shot away regardless when a slick finger probed between his buttocks.

* * *

Scott relaxed and began to drift off. In the morning, he would have to go back to helping run the school, but for now he allowed Logan to remove his glasses and pull him close.

In this moment, life's little problems could continue on their own. They couldn't touch him.


End file.
